Worth Fighting For
by LadyWallace
Summary: (S8 AU) When Dean and Cas are blown to Purgatory Sam and Meg team up to find them. But their problems don't stop with the rescue as they will soon realize since the forces of Heaven and Hell are hot on their trail. No slash
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Here is a brand new story for you, and yes, yet another S8 AU because apparently I don't know how to stop. This has officially become a problem, but this one has Purgatory which I've always wanted to write, so it's much different LOL :P**

 **This takes place directly after the S7 finale. Some dialogue was taken from that episode in this chapter too. Also there is eventual Megstiel in this story :)**

 **Thanks to Aini NuFire for betaing this one!**

Worth Fighting For

 _A Supernatural Fanfic_

Chapter One

Sam heard the explosion, felt the shockwave of the blast against his back as he hurriedly turned to shield Kevin with his body, unable to do anything else, unable to think of what else he _could_ do.

When he whipped around after the fact, heart pounding, fear for Dean and Cas bubbling up in his throat, he wasn't quite sure how to register what he was seeing at first.

First he saw that there was black goo everywhere in the lab, telling him that Dick Roman had exploded, which meant their weapon must have worked well enough.

But secondly it registered in his mind that the black goo was all that was there. There was no Dean. There was no Cas. They were completely gone.

"Dean," Sam breathed, half inquiringly, as if his brother might just pop up and be perfectly fine. But as the seconds ticked by, Sam still didn't see any sign of his brother or the angel.

 _What the hell had happened?_

"Sam," Kevin's shaky voice brought him back to the present as the kid grabbed his sleeve. "We should go."

"What the hell?" Sam breathed, as he stepped further into the room, looking around.

"More chompers any second, Sam!" Kevin cried.

"Not to worry."

Sam spun around to see Crowley suddenly standing to one side of the room, looking down with mild disgust at the goo from Dick Roman's explosion.

"I have a small army of demons outside," Crowley continued, striding over to Sam. "Cut off the head and the body will flounder, after all."

Sam just stared at him as Crowley shrugged.

"Think if you'd had just one king since the first sunrise. You'd be in a kerfuffle too."

"Which is exactly what you wanted," Sam breathed, finally forcing words from his throat.

"So did you," Crowley said. "Without a master plan the Levis are just another monster—hard to stomp, sure, but you love a challenge. _Your_ job was to keep them from organizing."

Sam shook his head. "Where're Dean and Cas?"

Crowley gave an overwrought inhale, faking regret. "That bone has a bit of a kick—god weapons often do. They should put a warning on the box."

"Where are they, Crowley?" Sam shouted, fists curling at his sides.

Crowley shook his head. "Can't help you, Sam."

He snapped his fingers and two demons appeared, taking hold of Kevin. The young prophet glanced between them, terrified, and Sam started, unsure of what move to make.

"Sorry, Sam, prophet's mine," Crowley said, and raised his hand to snap his fingers again, probably to send Kevin off to points nowhere, but one of the demons holding Kevin suddenly screamed, sparking out his eyes as the tip of an angel blade appeared out of his chest.

Sam watched, half hoping it was Cas, but as the demon fell, he saw Meg standing there, a little battered and bloody, but alive. He was honestly surprised.

She killed the second demon before he could fight back and Kevin dodged to one side as Meg watched the body fall with a look of indifference before she turned to Crowley.

"Yeah, think again," she told him.

Crowley narrowed his eyes at her. "Hello, whore. I thought my boys had already collected you. Brought you back to your new very special room."

Meg smirked. "Yeah, not so much. Your boys aren't exactly the sharpest tools in the shed, and I'm a lot quicker with a blade."

"Still, if you think I'm going to just let you go…"

"Oh, I know you too well, Crowley," Meg said. "But don't think I don't have a few tricks of my own up my sleeve." Her hand moved in a flash and the angel blade was suddenly flying through the air toward Crowley. In the blink of an eye it slammed point first into the wall right where the King of Hell had been only a fraction of a second before.

"Damn," Meg breathed as she strode forward to grab her blade.

"Meg," Sam finally forced out as she looked around at the remains of Dick Roman. "How many demons are out there?"

"More than we can fight off," she told him, looking around. "Where are Cas and Dean?"

Sam swallowed hard. "I don't know. Dean stabbed Roman and…they disappeared when he exploded."

Meg's eyes went wide. "They _what_?"

"I don't know!" Sam shouted, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, anxiety clouding his rationale.

"Sam!" Kevin cried. The sounds of distant commotion could be heard and Meg cursed again.

"Well, they sure as hell aren't here," she said. "And we shouldn't be either. Crowley's demons aren't going to let us go quietly. We need to get as far away from here as possible."

As much as Sam hated to admit it, he knew she was right. He surged forward, grabbing Kevin's arm before they followed Meg out through the lab and down several corridors before they came out into the open.

He spun around, and winced as he saw the Impala still crashed through the sign for Sucracorp, knowing Dean would have a fit if he were to see his baby now.

Dean…

 _What the hell had happened to them?_

"Sam!" Meg snapped.

Shouts sounded out behind them, and Sam looked over his shoulder to see demons running their way, and Crowley standing at the entrance to the Sucracorp building. That kicked him back into gear and he hurriedly yanked open the driver's side door and got in, starting the engine as Meg and Kevin followed.

Sam revved the Impala's engine and slammed it into reverse. The wheels spun a bit in the grassy median, but soon the traction caught and the Impala surged backwards. Sam spun the car into a 180, taking out a couple demons who had run after them in the process, and was off down the road as fast as he could go.

He drove at top speed for several minutes down the highway, the three of them silent, Sam still reeling with what had happened, before Kevin spoke up.

"What the hell happened back there?"

Sam glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that the kid was pale, wide-eyed, and looked like he might throw up. Meg looked back and rolled her eyes slightly.

"Breathe," she commanded the teenager firmly, before she turned back to Sam. "But seriously, he has a point. What the hell did happen?"

Sam gripped the wheel tighter, shaking his head. "I—I'm not sure. Dean and Cas had Dick cornered, I got there just in time to see them stab him in the neck. Then this…pulse started beating around him and he…exploded. And the next thing I know, he's black goo spattered everywhere, and Dean and Cas are nowhere to be seen."

Meg looked more stricken than Sam would have given her credit for, but then, Cas _had_ seemed to grow pretty attached to her in the last few months, so maybe the feeling was mutual. She hid her emotions quickly though, clearing her throat.

"Well, if that was the case, then I can only think of one option, especially since there weren't Dean and Castiel bits mixed in with the Levi nastiness."

Sam winced at the thought, but glanced over at her. "Then what?"

Meg leveled a look at him. "Where would Dick go if he died?"

Sam opened his mouth, furrowing his brow, before he thought of the obvious answer. "Purgatory." Then it dawned on him. "Wait…are you saying Dean and Cas…"

"Got blasted to Purgatory?" Meg offered blandly. "Yeah, I am."

"Purgatory?" Kevin screeched. "You're joking right?"

Meg glanced back at him. "It makes the most sense out of any other possibilities."

Sam felt sick, gripping the wheel tighter. "Then how the hell are we going to get them out of there?"

"I have no idea, I'm just as clueless as you, and that's certainly a feat," Meg told him wryly. "But it's not going to be easy, I can tell you that much. Purgatory isn't exactly easy to get into, even for a demon, and speaking of demons, Crowley is going to be on our tail unless we do something about him soon, and that's going to make finding Castiel and your brother even harder."

Sam raised his eyebrows at her use of 'we'. "Wait, you're telling me you're in on this? Really?"

Meg gave him a longsuffering, and slightly indignant look. "What, you think I'm just gonna wander off to get killed by Crowley, or worse? No thanks. I'd rather stay and take my chances with a Winchester—the only thing that keeps the monsters up at night."

Sam snorted. "So, I'm just free protection for you, is that it?"

Meg was quick to look away from him and out the window, folding her arms over her chest. "Something like that." Sam wondered if this had more to do with Cas than her protection, but didn't feel like mentioning it.

Sam glanced back at Kevin again, who seemed to at least have calmed down a little but. "Kevin, you didn't happen to see anything about Purgatory in the tablet, did you?"

Kevin shook his head. "N-no, sorry. Sam," he looked up with scared eyes. "I—I think Crowley has my mom, I…"

"It's okay, Kevin, we'll find her. I'm sure she's all right." Sam really hoped she was, anyway. The kid didn't need any more trauma right now.

"Sam, we need to find someplace to drop honor roll here," Meg said, nodding back toward Kevin. "If you want to keep him safe, you'll want to make sure he's somewhere far away from where Crowley and his minions will be able to track him down."

Sam swallowed hard, but had to agree. "You're right. I think I may have an idea, but we've gotta find out if his mom is okay first."

Meg opened her mouth to protest, but Sam stopped her. "Believe me, I want to find Dean and Cas too, but we can't leave Kevin's mom in danger either. Neither of them would want that."

Meg gave a conceding shrug and went back to looking out the window. "Fine. I just hope we get wherever you're going before Crowley shows up."

"Me too," Sam said and continued driving, eating up the miles as silence rained down again. He couldn't believe he had lost his brother and Cas again, and in Purgatory of all places.

Purgatory….what the hell was _that_ like?

* * *

 _Dean gasped awake_ , sitting upright abruptly and reaching for a weapon as he looked around, studying his surroundings.

He was in a forest, and it was nighttime, that much he could tell. Other than that, he had no idea where he was or how he got there.

He found the hilt of his knife in the back of his belt and was glad that he at least still had that. He had his gun too, but didn't have a lot of extra bullets so he would have to find out…wherever the hell he was and get back to Sam.

 _Sam_. Where was his brother? Where was Cas? And Meg and Kevin? The last thing he remembered was stabbing Dick Roman in the throat, which was…weird. How the hell did he get out here in the woods then, when they'd been at the Sucracorp building the last he recalled? The series of events just weren't adding up in his mind.

He could hear things stirring among the trees, strange, eerie noises that sent the hairs on the back of his neck standing upright. He reached into his pocket for his cellphone, and tapped the screen. It lit up, but there was no service. Not even one lousy bar. How far out was he?

Dean stood up, feeling slightly dizzy, but otherwise okay. Which was good. It could have been a lot worse standing in the blast zone of exploding Dick—and boy did that sound wrong. But it might also explain why he had woken up in a completely different place.

He flicked on the flashlight app on his phone and scanned the surroundings. There were just trees all around him. And worse, he kept catching sight of shadowy figures flitting between them in the pools of darkness. He drew his knife out with his other hand, swallowing hard as adrenaline surged through him. _Where the hell was he?_

As he continued to study the surroundings, his light fell on a lump of something out of place; it looked like a pile of fabric, clothing. He stepped forward cautiously and as recognition set in, he hurried the last few steps and crouched next to the prone figure, reaching out and rolling him onto his back.

"Cas?" Dean called, using his light to look the angel over. Cas didn't seem to have any wounds either, but he was completely unconscious. Dean tapped his cheek none-too-gently but Cas still didn't register anything. Dean brought his blade to the angel's lips to see if he was even breathing—of course, angels didn't really need to breathe, did they?

All the same, he was relieved to see a puff of moisture on the blade, so he took that to mean that Cas was actually still alive. Dean sat back on his heels, wondering what to do. He had no idea where they were, whether Sam and the others were nearby or not, and he couldn't really go anywhere with a comatose angel. It looked like he would at least be stuck here until Cas woke.

A branch snapped in the woods nearby and Dean swung his light over in that direction only to see large, dark shapes creeping between the trees with red, glowing eyes. A low growling was coming from that direction and Dean broke out into a cold sweat. Black dogs? Hellhounds? The only thing he was certain of was that he didn't want to stick around to find out.

"Cas, come on, man, wake up," he pleaded, shaking Cas roughly by the shoulder, then slapping his face again, harder this time. Still nothing. The growls from the unknown beasts were getting louder. Dean cursed, looking around for any place to hide or at least make a stand.

A large, seemingly ancient tree was all he saw. It wasn't too far away, and if he could get himself and Cas to it, they may just have a chance of survival.

"Screw this," he grunted and reached down to haul Cas over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He stowed his knife between his teeth, and grabbed his gun instead as he moved as fast as he could toward the tree with the angel's dead weight.

Excited growls and howls burst out through the trees and he heard the scrambling of clawed feet over the groundcover. Dean whipped around and shot; he heard a pained yip, but it didn't seem to slow the beasts down much. He kept running, and when he reached the tree, he practically flung Cas over one of the lower branches before scrambling up behind him. One of the giant wolf-like creatures leapt after him and caught the lower leg of his jeans with its claws. Dean hissed as he felt them tear into his shin, but he got out of the beast's reach quickly and kicked at one that made a grab for the tail of Cas' trench coat.

Dean scrambled up onto the next branch, hauling Cas after him, until he finally made it to a large crook in the tree, far enough up that it didn't seem like the wolves could get to them. Dean sat back against the trunk of the tree, panting, one arm hooked around Cas to make sure he didn't slide off, as he glanced over at the circling red-eyes beasts below.

He couldn't make out distinct details, but he could tell they were ugly brutes. Wolflike, but broader in the chest, hunched backs. He had never seen anything like them, that was for sure. What the hell were they and again, _where was he?_

One of the beasts got clever then and made a huge effort to jump to the first branch. With some scrambling, it actually managed to get its footing and Dean's breath caught in his throat.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed as he brought his gun around and leveled it at the creature. Its glowing red eyes met his with a snarl and was about to leap even higher when Dean shot it point blank in the head.

The creature fell with a dull, heavy thud on the ground below and the others erupted in a frenzy. Dean watched, eyes wide with horror as the other wolflike creatures turned on one of their own and tore it to shreds, devouring until there was nothing left but bones and scraps of skin.

Dean tightened his grip on Cas' coat, positioning the unconscious angel more securely on the branch. He didn't want either of them to meet that fate.

Thankfully, after the wolf things had finished with their dead packmate, they only spent a little more time growling up at Dean and Cas, before they wandered off, probably in search of easier prey. Dean didn't relax for even a second though. He stayed there for hours in the uncomfortable position in the crook of the tree, one arm keeping Cas from falling, and the other propped on his drawn up knee to keep his gun at the ready.

He didn't know where he was, but he did know this:

It was gonna be hell.

* * *

 _Dean didn't move all night,_ listening to the strange sounds of this unknown forest. He had spent his fair share of time in forests hunting things, but this one just wasn't normal. There were none of the typical sounds of crickets and other normal creatures of the night, there was only complete silence as the backdrop, and over that, there was just a plethora of unusual animal sounds that Dean couldn't place. Maybe 'animal' was being too generous anyway. After those things that had attacked them, Dean didn't even want to take a guess as to what else was out there.

He really just wanted to know where he was so he could figure out the quickest way to get the hell out of Dodge.

He began to think that the night may last forever, but eventually a grey, gloomy dawn came, and cast the forest into a murky, unappealing light. Thankfully, most of the freaky noises seemed to have ceased as the sun, or what could be seen of it anyway, came up, and Dean thought it was probably time to get out of this tree.

His whole body was aching and tense from the long, chilly night in the uncomfortable position and his legs were asleep from having Cas' dead weight practically lying on top of them all night. He didn't even want to think of the knots in his back.

He finally shifted his gun back into his coat; his fingers, unwilling to let it go, had cramped into a claw and he had to almost pry them off the butt of the pistol. He then turned to Cas whose head had slid back onto his shoulder, still limp and out of it. Dean was starting to get worried. He couldn't very well drag an unconscious angel around if he was going to have to fight off more giant wolves or who knew what else was out there: Rodents of Unusual Size came to mind, as he shook his head wryly. At this point, nothing would surprise him.

That was when Cas stirred—finally—and let out a short groan, his head lolling to one side as he tried to shift, probably into a more comfortable position.

Dean was quick to tighten his grip on the angel. "Woah, easy. Don't move too much."

Cas blinked his eyes open and craned his head to look at Dean. "Dean?" His eyes flicked around and he frowned as he saw where they were. "Are we…in a tree?"

Dean huffed a breath of relief. "Yeah, it was kinda my only escape rout."

Cas frowned, shifting slightly to one side to give Dean more room. "Escape from what? Dean, did you anger a wild animal? You really should leave them alone…" He trailed off as he looked around, his frown deepening. "No, something is not right."

Dean leaned forward, gripping Cas' shoulder. "Cas, what's not right?"

"Well, the atmosphere for one," Cas stated as if it was completely obvious. "Though, I suppose a human like you couldn't be expected to perceive that. But it is obvious we are not on earth anymore, can't you feel it?"

Dean looked at him with wide eyes. So Cas was still obviously off his rocker. That thought was almost the only comforting thing about this whole thing. "Dude, what are you talking about? Where the hell are we?"

Cas tilted his head to one side. "Don't you know? Dean, we were standing right next to Dick Roman when he exploded. The blast must have taken us with him."

"Where?" Dean demanded.

"Purgatory," Cas said matter-of-factly. "Which means that we are going to have to be very careful. This is a land populated only by monsters, after all."

Dean was still taking in the idea of them being in _Purgatory_. How the hell was that even possible?

One thing he did know, though, was that they were totally screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**On to chapter two! Thanks to everyone who has showed interest in this story so far :) I hope you continue to enjoy it!**

Chapter Two

It was a long drive to get to the Trans' house. Thankfully Advanced Placement had passed out from sheer exhaustion during the trip, so Meg didn't have to listen to his continuous near-panic attacks anymore. She kept glancing over at Sam during the drive, seeing the tight grip he had on the steering wheel, his jaw set in determination and anxiety. Meg had been in his head once, and she knew exactly how much Dean meant to him, knew he had to be frantic right now, and, hell, he had reason to be. His brother was stuck in freaking Purgatory, after all. It wasn't like he had been shipped off to Canada or something.

To be honest, Meg was also experiencing a certain amount of anxiety, though she was trying her best not to let Sam see it. What he did see, he probably would just think was a result of Crowley being hard on their asses, which was partly true, and Meg was perfectly happy letting Sam continue with that train of thought. But there was more to it than that. The thought of Castiel being stuck in Purgatory along with Dean Winchester was grieving her more than she wanted to admit.

She'd grown rather fond of the treetopper in the last couple months while she had been looking after him. Really, she had become _overly_ fond. Especially when Castiel looked at her like she was someone who he cared for. When he smiled at her, so trusting that she was there as his caretaker—it did something to her. Once upon a time, she might have gotten off on having an angel so trusting and dependent of her, but she didn't feel like that toward Cas at all. In fact, the idea that he cared about her, that he actually considered her a friend, someone to rely on in his current state, made her feel wanted. Wanted in a way she had never felt before, not from Azazel, not from Alastair even though she had been a star pupil of his, and not even from Lucifer when she had still been fighting for his cause. No, Castiel showed her something she had never had. True friendship; something that could possibly turn into more if he ever got his marbles back. He had called her 'Thorny Beauty' and despite her insistence that she didn't care for poetry, she had to admit that the awkward angel could make a girl feel wanted. He was a rare creature indeed.

Of course, Meg would _never_ admit any of this to anyone, let alone Sam Winchester. He could go on thinking she was staying with him for protection. But in reality, she was just as interested in launching a rescue mission to Purgatory as he was. Her only consolation was that Cas had Dean there. Sure, the hunter hadn't exactly been the best caretaker for the angel, but he could at least protect him, Meg could trust in him that much. Despite everything Cas had done, that Dean likely still blamed him for, she knew that Dean Winchester looked after his friends and family—hell, he'd even saved her ass a time or two. And if Cas was still off his game, then Meg knew he would need some protecting especially in a land full of monsters where angels—or humans for that matter—were never meant to be.

She glanced back at Kevin's sleeping form in the backseat before turning toward Sam. "So, once we rescue prophet boy's mom what's our next move?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. You're the demon. Don't you know how to get into Purgatory?"

Meg cocked an eyebrow at him. "Um, in case you forgot, _none_ of us knew how to get into Purgatory until Crowley and Castiel got the bright idea to steal souls from it. Don't you remember all those monsters Crowley tortured for that information? You hunted most of them down for him."

Sam frowned but didn't retort. "Okay, so best guess?"

Meg shrugged. "Best guess? If there's demons where we're headed, we grab one for the road and get the information out of him the fun way."

"That's the only option you can think of?" Sam demanded.

"Hey, I'm just as clueless as you, okay?" Meg retorted. "Like you said, let's concentrate on getting the kid safe and once he's squared away we can see if Crowley left any notes lying around."

They were silent for a while until Sam spoke up again. "What do you think Dean and Cas' chance of survival are?"

"Well, both he and Dean are warriors by trade. I'm sure your brother especially will enjoy a place that's practically like a hunter's amusement park."

"No, I mean, despite the obvious, they're a human and an angel in Purgatory," Sam said. "Neither of them are supposed to be there."

"I don't know," Meg replied honestly; she had been wondering the same thing. "I don't know much about Purgatory. But I can't see it agreeing with either of them too well." Especially Castiel. Meg wondered if the angel would even be able to use his powers there. His grace had been 'wobbly' as he put it for a while after he had taken on Sam's Cage scars. She hoped the atmosphere of Purgatory didn't knock his powers out completely, otherwise he and Dean were probably both screwed. She tried not to picture a plethora of monsters tearing the angel apart.

"I can't believe this happened," Sam said as if to himself, running a hand over his face.

"Well, honestly, I can," she replied blandly. "With your track record, I kinda figured this whole thing would go to hell at some point. Except it kind of stopped in Purgatory instead. I guess we should look at the bright side."

"We will find a way to get them out, though," he said again, Meg thought mostly to assure himself.

"Don't worry," she said then, offering up a small amount of support. "You Winchesters also have a track record with doing impossible things. I think we'll be able to figure this out too."

Sam didn't reply, just looked out to the open road in front of them and the grey light of dawn. Meg really hoped this wouldn't be the one time the Winchester skill at beating the odds failed.

It was midmorning by the time they reached the Tran residence and Sam parked several houses down on the opposite side of the road, and reached back to wake Kevin up.

"We're here," he said.

Kevin started awake, glancing around. "Did you see my mom?"

"We just got here," Sam told him gently. "But if there's a chance that demons are around, we can't just run in there without checking first, okay?"

"Well, we definitely have demons," Meg said as she scanned the area, sensing several demonic presences. "Check out the gardener."

Sam looked over in the direction she was pointing. The guy was just standing at the side of the house, watering some bushes, but it looked like he'd been there for a long time since the water was running all the way to the street.

"What about the mailman?" Sam asked and Meg turned her attention to the mailman who was taking his own sweet time opening the Trans' mailbox but not taking anything out or putting anything in before walking slowly down the street to do the same at the next house.

"Yep, definitely a demon," Meg told him. She couldn't see any others from where she was sitting, but she was pretty sure she detected at least two, maybe three more. "I'm thinking at least five."

Sam cursed and turned the car off, getting out and going around back to the trunk. "Okay, well, if you run interference, I'll get Kevin inside and he can stay in there while I help you take the rest of the demons out."

"Sounds like a plan. Just don't take too long, 'kay?" Meg said and started across the street.

"Meg, wait," Sam called, and she turned to see him pull the demon knife out of his coat. "Take this."

She smiled and pulled an angel blade from her own coat. "Thanks but I'm covered. Just get the kid inside. I'll meet you there."

Sam nodded and Meg slipped off, taking a wide swing so she could get around the back of the house without getting detected right off.

As expected there were more demon lawn care men in the backyard, two, in fact, and Meg smiled, standing nonchalantly off to one side, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't know about you, but do those flowers _really_ need any more fertilizer?"

The two demons looked up, their eyes flashing black as Meg's did the same.

"Hello, boys," she said with a smirk and took out her angel blade.

"We've been looking for you," one of the demons sneered. "Crowley has great rewards for the demon who brings you in."

"Along with the prophet and Sam Winchester," the other demon smirked. "It looks like our lucky day."

Meg shrugged. "If you're stupid enough to think Crowley will actually reward you for doing the job you were supposed to do anyway, then I almost want you to take me in, just to see the expression on your stupid faces. But I don't really have time for that." She leapt forward, managing to surprise the demons and stabbed one in the chest before the other kicked out at her, catching her in the hip.

Meg grunted and staggered back a step, regaining her footing before she danced out of the way of another blow and blocked the other demon's punch with her forearm before driving the angel blade upward into his neck. The demon sparked and collapsed, dead.

"So long, boys," Meg said as she stepped over the bodies before heading around the house to see that the other two demons were gone. Meg cautiously went to the front door and stepped inside, instantly seeing Sam standing in the living room with Kevin and a short, crying woman, who must be his mother. Meg actually felt kind of bad for the kid, since his mom was making such a scene, and hurriedly retreated to the kitchen to talk to Sam, not wanting get caught in the middle of human emotions.

"Took out two demons in the back," she told him. "You get the others?"

Sam grimaced. "The mailman smoked out as soon as he saw me. The other I took out."

Meg glanced over her shoulder to the Tran reunion. She cursed. "He'll have gone to tell Crowley. We need to get out of here now."

"Too late."

Meg and Sam both spun around to see Crowley standing there with a blasé expression on his face. Meg gripped the angel blade tighter, her knuckles whitening.

"Crowley," Sam growled.

"Sam. We've got to stop meeting like this," Crowley replied, cocking an eyebrow. There were other demons in the house, surrounding Kevin and his mother, and holding them captive. Sam had his demon knife out, but Meg knew they wouldn't be a match against all those demons and Crowley, especially if they were planning on getting Mrs. Tran out alive since she was useless as anything but a hostage—hell, she was actually thinking of the wellbeing of useless hostages. She really had gone soft. But maybe it was more to avoid having to hear Sam angst about it later.

"So, this can go one of two ways, Moose," Crowley told Sam, nodding over his shoulder toward the Trans. "You can let me take my prophet and give up the demon traitor, or you can fight and all of you can either die or get taken back with me to all points nowhere. What will your choice be?"

Meg glowered at Crowley, and Sam only tightened his grip on his blade. "Go to hell," he told the demon.

Crowley gave a minute shrug. "Very well then. Don't say I didn't warn you."

An earsplitting shriek sounded out through the house, and Meg couldn't help crying out, clapping her hands over her ears as the sound tore through her skull. The windows rattled, pictures fell off of the walls and things crashed to the floor, as the sound was suddenly accompanied by a burst of bright white light.

When she could see again, she looked up to see two figures dressed in business suits, carrying angel blades determinedly.

"Oh hell," she muttered. That was all they needed. Angels.

"Release the prophet to us," one of the angels said. "This is the only warning you will get, demon scum."

Sam and Meg shared a glance and started backing slowly away.

Crowley glared at the newcomers. "The prophet's mine, I found him first. So I would suggest you fly off before I start to rip your feathers out one by one."

"That's not going to happen."

Meg glanced over at the new arrival, another angel, this one a woman with an arrogant air about her, her hair held in a businesslike bun on the back of her head.

"You," Crowley snarled.

"Crowley," the angel replied with a voice that dripped with contempt.

"That's my cue then," Crowley said and disappeared.

His demons looked around, confused and a little worried and the two angels fell on them instantly, taking them out without much trouble. Meg didn't like this one bit, she swallowed hard and turned to the hunter.

"Sam," she whispered, but it was too late. The female angel had turned toward them as the other two saw to Kevin and his mother. Meg didn't miss the look of disgust on the angel's face as she recognized Meg as a demon.

"You must be Sam Winchester," the angel said, flicking her gaze toward the hunter. "I must say, I didn't expect to see you working with a demon. Again."

Sam stiffened as Meg bristled. "It's not like that," he said.

"Yeah, Ruby was a bitch," Meg added. "I'm actually helping."

The angel gave her a look like she was something to be scraped off the bottom of her shoe. Meg returned the sentiment. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to sway the angel any, she just turned pointedly to Sam. Meg decided to use that to her advantage and backed against the kitchen table.

"We thank you for protecting the prophet thus far, but we will take him now."

"Uh, I don't think so," Sam said quickly. "No offense, but the last time you set angels to watch over Kevin, he was kidnapped by Dick Roman."

"And that was regrettable," the angel said in an even, reasonable tone, that Meg instantly hated her for. "But the Leviathans are gone now, and my men are more than capable of protecting the prophet from Crowley's demons. He will be safer with us, Sam."

"Yeah, we'll pass," Sam replied.

"I'm afraid it's non-negotiable," the angel said firmly.

"Really?" Meg inquired, cocking an eyebrow before she stepped away from the table so that the angel could see the sigil she had painted there before she slammed her hand down on it. The angel's face contorted in rage a second before she and her monkey-suited lackeys were blown into the ether.

Sam whipped around, staring at Meg with wide eyes.

She raised her eyebrows innocently. "What?"

Sam shrugged and didn't reply but he looked slightly impressed. He turned to Kevin and his mom who both looked to be in shock at the rapid turn of events.

"Okay, we need to get out of here now before more angels or demons come back," Sam told them and Meg helped herd them out the door.

As soon as they got Kevin and his mother to Sam's friend, that was one step accomplished and the next was getting Castiel and Dean out of Purgatory.

She just hoped there would be something left _to_ get out by the time they found a way to do it.

* * *

 _Dean and Cas jumped out of the tree_ , planning on getting somewhere that could be used as shelter—of course, Dean wasn't entirely optimistic about finding shelter in a place like Purgatory, but they didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Purgatory.

He was still reeling from Cas' almost too casual pronouncement of where they were. Sure, he guessed it kind of made sense—more sense than any other explanation that had gone through his head the night before while he was just hoping to survive until dawn, but seriously….freaking Purgatory?! As if their lives couldn't get any weirder, he and Cas had been whammied to monsterland by saving the world from a monster businessman who was monopolizing on the gluttony of America in order to farm dopy people to feed his kind. Yeah, surprisingly, even when you put it that way, it didn't make anything about this situation better.

"So how do we get out of here?" Dean asked Cas as they strode along.

"I don't know. I've never been here. Angels were never meant to see this place," Cas said with a shrug as he looked around with mild fascination. "I do think I will miss the bees most, though. I had become very fond of them."

"Enough about the bees, Cas," Dean snapped before he felt a stab of regret for raising his voice toward his friend. He knew it wasn't Cas' fault they were here; he was just quickly reaching the end of his rope. "Just…can we please concentrate on finding a way to get out of here?"

Cas stopped walking and turned to him with an empathetic frown between his brows. "Dean, I'm not sure we can."

"What do you mean?" Dean demanded.

"This place isn't meant for things to get out of. I mean, look at all the trouble I had to go through to get the souls," Cas shrugged, shaking his head. "Even if there is a way, I have no idea where or what it might be. As I said, angels aren't exactly meant to be concerned about the place monsters go when they die."

"Well, we're stuck here now, so we better both be concerned with it," Dean grumbled. "I don't even know what we're gonna eat or drink around here."

"I'm not sure you'll have to worry about that," Cas said as he started walking again and Dean hurried to keep up.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Well, Purgatory is between the mortal plane and Hell. You're soul and body are still intact, but since humans aren't supposed to be able to exist on any plane but their own in their mortal bodies, being in places like Purgatory put them into a suspended state of sorts. You won't age here, nor will you starve." Cas glanced over at him with a smile. "Though if it makes you feel better, I know a few surprisingly simple recipes for tree bark that I would be glad to make you."

"Yeah, I think I'll pass," Dean twisted up his mouth in disgust. "Okay, so I'm kind of in a state of suspension or whatever. What about you?"

Cas cocked his head to one side. "It's hard to say. I do still have my powers, I can feel my grace, but then, it has been wobbly at best since I took Sam's scars."

"Are you still against the whole fighting thing?" Dean asked, somewhat hesitantly.

Cas looked off into the forest, still walking slightly ahead of Dean. "I would like to avoid it at all costs, but I will not let you die here, Dean." He stopped suddenly to turn around and put a hand on Dean's shoulder, giving him a sincere look. "I still have my angel blade and my grace, and I will protect you as I always have."

Dean cleared his throat, wondering how reliable a crazy angel was, but then, it was _Cas._ And loony or not, Dean was still willing to trust him with his life—maybe against his better judgment, but he figured he at least owed his friend the benefit of a doubt. Especially since he'd been so hard on him lately.

He shook his head. "Well, thanks for that, Cas. I promise I'll do the same."

They started walking again and Dean added, "And I also promise that we will find a way out of here if it's the last thing we do."

"Well, considering where we are, it might be," Cas said, with more consideration than sarcasm. "But you and Sam do tend to beat the odds quite a bit. It often surprises me. I've been sure you would die on multiple occasions."

Dean snorted. "Well, let's hope this time the odds aren't against me."

Really though, he had no frickin' clue as to how they were gonna get out of there.

* * *

 _They walked for hours,_ and sometimes it seemed like they were just going in circles. Dean was certain they had passed the same rock three times now, and it didn't help that Cas was either rambling on about random things, or making detours that forced Dean to quickly change course. All the time, he was afraid that the angel would forget where they were and simply fly off. Nothing boded well about this situation; there was just too little information Dean had to go on aside from Purgatory being monster hell or whatever. Well, putting it that way, it wasn't exactly as bad as human hell—not that he'd choose it as a vacation spot.

All of a sudden, Cas stopped in the middle of their trek, which caused Dean to nearly run into his back.

"What?" he demanded.

"Dean, something is near," Cas said, cocking his head to one side as if listening. "I'm not sure what, but I can feel something close by."

"Like a monster?" Dean asked.

Cas looked at him with a frown. "Of course. What else would be down here? Although I suppose another human could have gotten trapped. Or possibly insects if they were within the blast zone when Dick Roman exploded—they may have come with us. Either way, it would be wise to take precautions."

"Agreed," Dean said and pulled his gun out to accompany the knife he hadn't let go of since they started their hike that morning. He checked the clip and saw that it was still half full. Not great, but it would work in a pinch.

They continued on, and Dean felt the back of his neck prickle with the feeling of something watching from the shadows. He swallowed hard, casting a furtive glance at the surroundings, both him and Cas slowing simultaneously.

He glanced over at the angel who had stopped completely now, looking around. Suddenly, Cas' eyes went wide, and he reached out to grip Dean's arm so tightly that Dean nearly winced.

"Dean, I can feel them!" he said frantically, and Dean was shocked to see actual fear in Cas' eyes.

"What, Cas?" Dean demanded, looking around for the source of the angel's distress.

"The Leviathan, I think they've found us!" Cas cried.

As soon as he said it, something fell from the sky and landed in front of them, causing Dean to leap back with a yelp, and raise his gun at the thing. It looked like a puddle of black goo—Levi goo—but soon formed into a human shape, with obvious evil intent.

"Son of a bitch," Dean breathed, and raised his knife as well, even though he knew both weapons would be useless, but Cas clamped a hand over his shoulder and before he knew it, they were somewhere else in the blink of an eye.

Dean looked around at a trickling stream with more forest beyond before he turned back to Cas, his mouth open to ask where they were, when he saw his friend leaning against a tree, breathing heavily.

"Cas?" Dean inquired, taking a step over to him and reaching out to put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you good?"

"I—I didn't realize flying was different here," Cas said, still wheezing. "The ether is…dense. Like…tar clinging to my wings. Or perhaps honey, but honey is too nice for this analogy. And this was certainly not nice. I don't think I'll be able to fly very much. It takes a lot of energy, and you know what happens when feathers get stuck in tar."

Dean shook his head at Cas' ramblings, and simply pulled him away from the tree, drawing Cas' arm over his shoulders as the angel stumbled. He looked around, but there didn't seem to be any other monsters or Leviathans around. Thankfully.

"Don't worry about it, Cas; it looks like you got us away this time, and hopefully they won't come after us for a while. At least not before we can find a way out of here."

"Well, we can hope," Cas said as he stumbled alongside Dean. "But I fear they will not stay away long. They will not be happy that we killed their leader and sent them back here."

Dean snorted wryly. "Yeah, well, honestly, Cas, there's probably a ton of SOBs that I've killed crawling around down here. We're just gonna have to deal with it when they come."

"Of course," Cas nodded.

They walked for a few more hours, seemingly aimless. Cas regained some of his strength, but Dean knew he was still tired, for the angel's steps seemed to only get heavier. He pressed his lips together as he looked around, scrutinizing the terrain. Besides the river cutting through, Purgatory seemed to all be forest, though Dean didn't think they'd explored a tenth of it yet, even if it seemed like they had with all the _Lord of the Rings_ grade walking they had done that day.

And it must be getting late, because the dim light was getting dimmer and Dean could hear things stirring in the trees again. He did not want a repeat of the night before, so he decided they needed to speed up the game of finding shelter, like, right now.

It was Cas who found the cave first, hidden under the huge roots of an ancient oak tree.

Dean was just walking and noticed after a few seconds that Cas wasn't beside him anymore. He nearly panicked, feeling like he had lost Sammy as a kid in the grocery store again, but as he turned around, he saw the angel was crouching at the base of a huge tree.

"Cas, come on, we have to keep going," Dean called.

"Dean, there is a hollow under here," Cas said, pointing between the tree's gnarled roots.

"Yeah, and it's probably occupied," Dean informed him.

Cas shook his head. "No, it hasn't been occupied for a long time. I think we will be safe here."

Dean walked over to join him and glanced down at the dark hole skeptically. "I don't even know if I can fit down there."

"You should be able to, especially since you've mostly been eating vegetables and fruit lately," Cas said matter-of-factly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded, refraining from tugging his jacket over his _slightly_ soft middle. "And the salads weren't by choice, for the record. It's not my fault the Levis poisoned all the good food."

Cas ignored him, going on about the 'hollow'. "It should be a small enough opening that it will keep out most of the creatures of the night. The earth should also help to mask our scent."

Dean sighed, casting another glance around at the darkening woods. He was exhausted and this was the only possible shelter they had seen all day. "Fine. But if it's standing room only down there, I am not gonna be the little spoon."

"I don't see how silverware comes into this, Dean." Cas took hold of the roots and lowered himself down into the hole. Dean heard the dull thud of his feet hitting the ground, and then met Cas' shadowed eyes as the angel looked up at him. "There's plenty of room. Come down."

Dean grumbled under his breath, stowing his knife in the back of his belt as he too grabbed the roots and wriggled between the biggest hole the branches had to offer. He had to suck in a breath, but managed to slip through without too much trouble to land next to Cas.

'Plenty of room' was a bit of an exaggeration, but it didn't look like they were going to be forced to spoon either so Dean was perfectly fine with it. He crouched down in the loam at the base of the hole and was surprised to find that it was actually pretty cushy. It was a little damp, but he'd honestly slept in worse motel rooms.

"Alright, I guess this doesn't totally suck," he said as he took out his knife and gun, laying them close to hand as he lay back, the hole almost wide enough for him to stretch out completely. He groaned inwardly as he realized someone was going to have to set a watch, and with Cas so exhausted…

"It will be okay if you sleep, Dean," Cas said as if reading his mind. "I will be able to detect anything coming and will warn you if we need to leave."

Dean wanted to protest, but lying down felt good after the day of hiking, and so he didn't. "Sounds good. But you need rest too. Get your mojo back."

"I'm afraid my 'mojo' is still a bit wobbly; rest will do little for it," Cas told him as he too stretched out on the floor, wrapping his coat, which had gotten filthy throughout the day, around him securely. "Purgatory just feels…strange."

"Well, rest anyway," Dean insisted, and turned onto his side, pillowing his cheek on his arm as he closed his eyes. He wouldn't have expected it, but it didn't take him long to fall into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

 _Dean was startled awake by a strangled cry_ , as well as something jabbing into his back. He sat up, instantly putting a hand on his knife. He fumbled in his pocket for his cellphone and turned it on to illuminate the hollow. But when he turned he just saw Cas curled up tight and trembling, almost in a ball, pain or some kind of mental anguish written across his face as sweat beaded on his forehead. Dean realized it had been the angel's knee that had jabbed him in the back while he thrashed in his sleep. He left his knife where it was and turned to see if there was anything he could do for his friend.

"Cas," Dean hissed, reaching out to shake the angel's shoulder, hoping he wouldn't make too much noise so nothing would be able to hear them and come for a midnight snack.

Cas groaned and flinched at his touch and Dean quickly pulled his hand away, not wanting to make this worse.

"Cas, buddy, you gotta wake up," Dean pleaded, already reaching for his knife again and casting a furtive glance up at the opening to their underground burrow but all he could see was darkness.

Cas shifted, turning slightly toward his voice. "Meg?" he whimpered. "Meg, where are you?"

Dean's heart clenched, mostly because of Cas' broken tone, but also partly because his friend had called for a demon above him. Of course, Dean was smart enough to know that Meg _had_ pretty much been the only one to take care of Cas in the last few months, so he couldn't really blame him. But still; once upon a time, Cas had been like a brother to him and Dean had told the angel as much before their relationship had kind of gone to crap. He wanted nothing more than to get that relationship back, but just wasn't sure how to go about that. Not after everything he had done.

But maybe this was a good place to start. Because seriously, what could be worse than getting blown to Purgatory?

"No, Cas, it's Dean," he said quietly and reached out to firmly grip the angel's shoulder again. "You're having a nightmare. Come on, buddy, wake up, okay?"

It took some nudging, but Cas finally blinked his eyes open. For just a second, Dean could see a somewhat disappointed look as Cas met his gaze, but the angel was quick to mask it, or perhaps the gratitude that came next was genuine after all.

"Dean," he whispered. "I—I just had a bad dream."

"Yeah, I could tell," Dean said, still watching him warily.

"I'm sorry to wake you," Cas added hurriedly, pushing himself up onto his elbow. "I won't do it again. Please don't leave."

Dean's heart broke again, especially at the pleading and shame he saw in the angel's blue eyes.

"Cas, I'm not going anywhere," he said after doing his best to swallow the pain down.

"I—I know I should do penance, but… sometimes it's hard," Cas said, looking down at his lap.

Penance? What the hell? Then Dean recalled what Cas had told him before their mission to kill Dick. About how he thought his resurrections were punishments as opposed to rewards. Dean didn't really buy into any of that crap, but if that was where Cas' head was, then he was determined to do his best to rectify it.

"Hey," he said, and reached out to grip the angel's shoulder again. "This isn't about penance, okay? Everyone has nightmares, even angels apparently. And you're gonna be okay, got it?"

Cas looked like he wasn't sure what to reply but he finally gave a small, jerky nod. "Okay. I got it, Dean."

"Now, lay down and try to get some more rest."

"I should watch over you. I…I don't quite trust myself to wake if anything comes," Cas protested, but the dark circles under his eyes told of his exhaustion. Dean wondered if maybe Purgatory was weighing on him. He knew _he_ didn't feel much of anything as Cas had predicted, but Cas was an angel, even less likely to be here than a human, so maybe the atmosphere of the place had more adverse effects on him. He had said it felt oppressive and like 'tar' when he flew. That couldn't be good.

"No, Cas, I'll watch tonight," Dean told him and gave him a slight nudge so that he would lie back down. "Go on. I'll let you know if I get too tired."

Cas seemed to want to protest again, but reluctantly lay down instead, his eyes already drooping shut. "Meg would sometimes read me stories when I couldn't sleep," he said almost in passing.

Dean's eyebrows shot up at the image of the demon sitting by Cas' bedside at night, reading him bedtime stories. He had to admit, he had been sure that Meg was just obliging them by watching Cas for her own gain, but maybe he had misjudged her after all. No one had said reading an angel bedtime stories was part of the gig.

"Well, I'm sorry I don't have any books," Dean said, somewhat awkwardly, flashbacks of when he and Sammy were kids putting a sharp pain through his chest. "But they're just dreams, Cas. They can't hurt you."

Of course that was a lie, and they both knew it, but Cas had the grace to smile gratefully all the same. "I know," he replied.

"Okay then, just, try to sleep," Dean told him and reached out to pat his shoulder in the dark. "I'll wake you if you look like you start to have another one."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas said and settled down into the soft loam again, this time turned toward the hunter. Dean shifted to sit against the side of the hollow and watched the vague outline of Cas in the dark, his shoulder rising and falling as he breathed.

He really hoped that this wouldn't make Cas worse off than he already was, but Dean figured they were going to have to face the facts pretty soon that Purgatory was bad news no matter how you looked at it, and the best thing they could do was find a way out of there as quickly as possible.

Dean leaned his head back against a tree root and looked up at the evil, starless night that Purgatory had to offer, between the roots that were all that was protecting them from any monster wanting to rip their spleen out. He started to wonder what Sam was doing now. What might have happened to his little brother after he and Cas had been blown to Purgatory. He really hoped that Sam and Kevin—and okay, Meg too—were all right. He figured that not seeing them here was a good sign, but then, maybe they had been blasted in too, just in a different location. Dean really hoped not. Even if they had stayed topside, he knew they weren't exactly going to be safe. There might still be Levis out there, even though he thought they were all supposed to have gone away once Dick was ganked—and seeing one today in Purgatory had helped that theory along. Still, there was Crowley who Dean was never stupid enough to trust, especially since he knew how much the King of Hell wanted Kevin to be his own personal prophet.

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. _I really hope you're okay, Sammy_ , he thought as he waited for his second day in Purgatory to dawn.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks again to everyone who has been enjoying this story so far :) Benny comes in in this chapter!**

Chapter Three

Dean woke Cas as the light started to get brighter outside the hole and they started off once again on their seemingly perpetual trek. He was glad to see the angel looked at least a little recovered from the rest he had gotten the night before, seeming to be not quite so drawn out, but the fact that Cas had needed to sleep at all had unnerved him a bit. Dean knew from past experiences that Cas had to be really drained to need actual sleep. But then, Purgatory wasn't exactly what he would call a choice vacation spot.

"I don't understand why we need to move at all," Dean muttered after tripping over a fallen log and nearly falling headfirst into a rock. "If there's nowhere to go, we could MacGyver a tree house or something until we can figure out a way to get out of here."

"We can't stop," Cas informed him, still walking along, eyes flicking every which way. "If we stay in one place for too long the Leviathans will find us. Even stopping to rest for the night is dangerous, even if it is necessary."

Dean heaved a sigh. "Well, we need to figure something out then, because the last thing I want to do is hike myself to death."

"You know, despite the fact that the inhabitants of the forest are entirely monsters, I find it rather peaceful," Cas mused, a small smile on his face as he looked around. "The trees are nice, and though the atmosphere is somewhat inclement for an angel, there is no human pollution either."

Dean snorted. "Well, if you want to go birdwatching, fine, but I'm not sticking around if the bird grows fangs and decides you look like dinner."

"I don't believe there are fanged birds even here, Dean," Cas replied matter-of-factly. "Though, I'm sure that there are quite a few monsters that even you and Sam haven't encountered."

"Yeah, not to mention a bunch we probably sent here ourselves who have a huge grudge," Dean muttered. Not that he was worried. He'd killed them once, he could kill them again. He wondered how Purgatory worked. That wolf thing had obviously been wounded by his gunshot and then eaten by its companions so that led him to assume it was dead, or re-dead. Kind of sucked for the monsters if they could die twice, but they were monsters, so he wasn't going to waste any tears on them.

Dean felt somewhat odd himself. He hadn't eaten for the better part of two days now, and yet, he didn't feel hungry; he didn't even really feel thirsty. He was just sort of…well, he didn't really know. It was just kind of an odd feeling. Sort of like when he had been in Hell. No real sense of the passage of time aside from the discomfort, and the likelihood of pain.

At least here, he was more inclined to get a fighting chance, instead of being stuck on Alastair's rack.

Cas stopped suddenly, and Dean looked around, worried. "Cas?"

"We need to go," the angel said. "The Leviathan, I can feel them catching up."

"Cas, hold on, we can—" But Cas had already grabbed his arm and Dean was spun into the whirling vortex of angel travel. They landed heavily in a clearing and Dean felt his stomach flip with sudden vertigo. That had not been fun.

He groaned and got off his hands and knees, turning to see Cas listing woozily to one side of him.

"Cas, you can't keep doing this," Dean told him firmly, swallowing hard to keep the nausea at bay.

"It would be worse if they found us," Cas said simply. "I was just keeping you safe, Dean." He slumped forward and Dean hurried to support him before he fell on his face.

"Whoa, hey, take it easy, buddy." He was worried when he saw a sheen of sweat on Cas' forehead. He didn't think he'd ever seen the angel sweat.

"I'm okay," Cas insisted, pushing himself upright, but gripping Dean's arm for longer than he normally would. "Well, I suppose 'okay' is relative. I'm not dying or about to pass out, so I would say that would classify as an appropriate statement."

Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes, patting Cas on the shoulder. "Yeah, I guess we'll go with that."

They walked on, Cas' steps strengthening and evening out after a few minutes, thankfully. But Dean was still worried. He knew it would be bad news, to put it mildly, if the Leviathans caught up with them, but at the same time, if Cas had to keep teleporting them away, eventually he wasn't going to be able to just shake it off. Then Dean would probably end up having to haul his unconscious body around and then they really would be an easy target for all the evil things down there.

"Hey, Cas," he said finally. "You know you can't keep exerting yourself like that, right? I know it weakens you, and if you do it too much you might not have the juice if we really need it and then we _won't_ be able to get away from the Leviathans at all."

Dean saw Cas' shoulders stiffen and the angel looked away when he spoke. "I'm sorry, Dean, I hadn't thought of that. I promise not to damage myself beyond repair so that I can be there to take you to safety."

His self-deprecating tone made Dean's already nauseas stomach feel worse. "Cas, that's not that I meant," he tried to amend quickly.

"It's okay, Dean, you don't have to explain yourself. I understand," Cas said swiftly, and then looked around at their surroundings. "You know, I find it very odd that there are no insects here. Insects are the foundation of every eco-system. But then, I suppose this isn't exactly a true eco-system, it's just made to resemble one. Still, I think there would be many benefits if insects were added here."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Cas' nonsensical rambling stopped him. The angel was obviously done discussing the topic of his 'usefulness' and Dean figured he probably wouldn't get much out of him if he tried to broach the subject again. Maybe later, he would find a better time to talk, make sure his friend knew that it wasn't because he thought him 'useful' that he didn't want him running himself down, he just wanted them both to get out of there alive—when they did finally find a way out…which they totally would.

Sometime later, Dean felt the hairs of the back of his neck stand up. He kept walking for a bit, feeling eyes on him, and hearing something creeping through the trees behind them and slightly off to the left.

Eventually, he stopped Cas. "We got company."

"Yes, you do."

Dean and Cas spun around to see four men and two women emerging from the trees. They were dressed in dirty, ragged clothes and were carrying rustic, hand-made weapons that looked to have been cobbled together with wood and stone and leather strips. Dean wondered vaguely what kind of monster the leather had come from.

"Dean Winchester, I presume," one of the men said, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "And his haloed friend. Well, I must say that I never expected to see you here, of all places." He grinned and fangs descended over his human teeth.

Great, vamps. Dean glowered back at them, holding his knife casually at his side. "So you know who I am, good for you. I guess that means you also know my reputation."

One of the women laughed. "Oh yes. We know. Which is why we're going to make you pay for all of our kind you ever killed. Take it out of your sweet, handsome flesh." Her eyes raked him up and down and she licked her lips, showing her own fangs.

Dean smirked. "Not unless you take me out to dinner first, sweetheart."

"Perfect," she said sweetly. "You are the main course, after all."

The vampires started to advance, when Cas stepped forward in front of Dean. "Wait," he said.

Dean frowned at him, alarmed when he realized Cas didn't even have his blade out. Was he insane? Well, okay…

"What do you want, angel?" the first male vamp, probably the leader, asked.

"I was wondering what your opinion was on the lack of bees here?" Cas said and Dean wanted to smack himself in the face. It did have an amusing effect on the vampires though.

They just stood and stared at them. "Why does that matter?" one asked.

"Oh, bees are very important, they are the main reason things are able to grow, after all. And their song is beautiful. But I suppose you've probably never taken the time to listen to it."

The lead vampire shook his head, scoffing in disbelief. "The halo is insane."

"Not gonna keep me from my dinner, though," another said and the vampires suddenly leapt at them all together.

Dean barely got his blade up in time to block a blow from one of the vampire's strange weapons. He was driven back several steps but gained his footing again soon enough before he swiped a blow at the vampire who was forced to leap back. Cas was engaged likewise, finally having revealed his angel blade, and was busy taking on three of the vampires while the rest converged on Dean

An arm looped around Dean's throat and yanked him backwards as a foot kicked his feet out from under him. He yelped as the two vamps succeeded in throwing him to the ground. He grunted, as his breath was driven from his body, the fall jarring his knife from his hand. He tried to scramble back to his feet, but the two vampires who had attacked him held him down, one straddling his waist and the other gripping his arms tightly, forcing them to the ground above his head. He struggled and growled, but the vamps held on tightly.

The one sitting on him grinned as the third vampire, one of the females, edged closer with a hungry look. "Not so tough after all, are you, Winchester?" she mocked, crouching next to him, and running her fingers down his face and throat. "Should have known. All those big heroes are always a disappointment when you meet them in real life."

She gripped a fistful of Dean's hair and yanked his head to one side, exposing his neck. Dean struggled with renewed vigor as the vampire leaned down and sank her teeth into Dean's jugular.

He was vaguely aware of a sudden gasp and thud, before the grip on his arms was loosened. Dean took the opportunity to instantly, grab the throat of the vamp feeding from him and turn the tables, flipping the bloodsucker over, wincing as her teeth were ripped from his throat.

The other vamp still sitting on him tried to intervene but he was taken out as well, and Dean reached over to grab that vamp's own weapon and wasted no time in beheading the female. Dean stood up quickly, hand clapped to his wound, looking around for the rest of the vamps but saw Cas finishing off the leader with a quick swing of his angel blade and all the others already lying beheaded on the ground around him.

It was then that Dean noticed the third figure standing several feet away, looking down apathetically at one of the vampires who had attacked Dean.

"You always were a right bastard, Jacob," the man said.

"Hey!" Dean yelled at him, raising the vampire's weapon he was still holding, constructed from a large piece of flint and what looked to be a leg bone or something. "Who the hell are you?"

The man finally looked up. He was tall, broad, and was wearing an older style sailor cap and pea coat. "Is that any way to address someone who just saved your life?" He spoke with a Louisiana drawl, a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

Dean scowled at him, not lowering his weapon even a fraction. "Not if I don't know why they did it."

The man smirked. "I guess you won't take the excuse that it was out of the goodness of my own heart."

Dean snorted. "Yeah. Not so much. Look, pal, I know you're some kind of monster, that's all there is down here, so tell me your game, and maybe I'll make it quick."

Cas was at his shoulder now, eyes narrowed at the stranger as well. "He's a vampire," he said simply.

"Bingo," the man said.

"Good, now I know how to kill you," Dean said, raising his weapon again.

The man held up his hand, chuckling. "Now hold on there, chief. Won't you let me explain myself first?"

Dean tightened his jaw but finally conceded. "Fine. But I don't like it, I start swinging."

The man shrugged. "Fair enough. See, I've been looking for you since you got dropped here. Humans do some odd things to this place, and angels, well, let's just say they aren't exactly low-key."

Dean glanced at Cas and caught the sight of confusion on his face, but he turned back to the vampire, not wanting to take his eyes off him too long. "Okay, so what? You want my autograph?"

The vampire smirked. "I want your help."

Dean looked at him incredulously. "A vamp, asking _me_ for help."

"Any other time, I wouldn't dream of it, but it's kind of a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Go on," Dean said."

"I can get you out of here. I know the way."

Dean looked at him in shock. "You do?"

"How?" Cas asked. "There is no known way between earth and Purgatory without the proper spellwork."

"Maybe not in," the vampire said. "But there is a way out for the right person. See, humans aren't supposed to be here. Purgatory doesn't want you here. Therefor it makes a portal to spit you back out."

"Okay," Dean said carefully. "And if that's true, that would be great, but what do you want in return?"

The vampire narrowed his eyes at him. "A ride out."

"Come again?" Dean asked.

"There's a spell that will let me ride out with you," the vampire said. "I show you the way out, give you an extra pair of hands to fight off the monsters who want a taste of human flesh, and you let me ride out with you when you go back topside."

Dean didn't like this at all. In fact, he was about seventy-five percent positive that this vamp was leading them on so that they would make a nice meal later. But if he wasn't…Dean didn't think he really had a luxury not to give this a chance. They needed a way out and there were two of them against the vampire. If he did turn on them, they would be ready and they would be able to take him down.

"Dean," Cas said quietly. "Are you planning on taking this offer?"

Dean was silent for a long time but finally gave in, sighing before he turned back to the vampire. "Alright, we have a deal. But if you try anything, I will gank you."

"Appreciate the honesty," the vampire said and stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Name's Benny, by the way. Benny Lafitte."

Dean took his hand after only a bit of hesitation. "Dean Winchester. That's Cas." He nodded to the angel.

Benny grinned. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Dean and Cas. Now come on, I know a safe place for us to hole up for the night, and it's getting on time."

Dean couldn't argue with that. He shared a look with Cas but the angel seemed indifferent as he simply wiped his angel blade on one of the dead vampires and stowed it back inside his coat. Dean wasn't sure what to think of his friend's reaction, but then he was never quite sure how to read Cas these days, so he figured that if the angel didn't have any outright objections to joining forces with Benny the vampire, then he was willing to go along with the idea.

They trudged silently for a while, every small sound Dean heard setting him on edge, but Benny turned to him with some small amusement in his eye.

"Don't fret about it," he drawled. "Not all the monsters here are willing to tangle with a hunter of your caliber and an angel."

Dean grunted, but he was also reminded of something Benny had said earlier. "Hey, what did you mean earlier when you said angels weren't exactly 'low-key'?"

Benny cast a sideways glance toward Cas. "Well, you probably wouldn't be able to tell, but they put off a certain energy. Your haloed friend here is practically glowing."

Dean frowned, looking over at Cas again, seeing the angel frowning as well, but he couldn't see what Benny was seeing. "So that's how you found us?"

Benny chuckled. "Trust me, chief, it's hard to miss."

Cas looked suddenly uncomfortable, slightly stricken. "If…if that's the case, I would assume that is how the Leviathans keep finding us."

"That would be a likely conclusion," Benny drawled.

Dean turned to the vampire with a sharp glare. "Hey, shut up," he snapped before turning to Cas. "Cas, either way, we've got an idea of how to get out of here now. We'll just avoid the chompers until we get to this portal."

"And if we can't?" Cas asked, an odd expression on his face. "Dean, what if I cause more trouble for you? What if…"

"Stop," Dean commanded, more sharply than he had intended, but he needed to get this past Cas' thick skull. "You're coming with whether you like it or not, okay? I'm not gonna leave you here for Levi chow. Besides," he forced a smile and a knowing look, "Meg would probably kill me if I didn't look after you."

Cas gave an exasperated look that seemed more like his old self than Dean had seen in a long time and it actually made him feel a little better. "Fine," was all the angel said, but he kept walking and didn't bother to protest any more on the matter.

Dean still watched him carefully that night, and really hoped that Benny could get them to this portal sooner rather than later. Because he wasn't really willing to chance his luck more than he had to down here.

He had a feeling those vamps today were only the beginning.

* * *

 _Sam and Meg dropped Kevin_ and his mom off with Garth at his 'safe houseboat' and then went on their way with the perpetually optimistic hunter promising that he would look into anything he could find about getting into Purgatory.

Sam felt better now that the Trans at least were safe, but now he didn't have anything to distract him from worrying about his brother and Cas, which he started to do profusely as soon as they were back on the road.

Despite Garth's assurances that he could find something useful or someone who knew something, Sam didn't think it was going to be that easy to get into Purgatory. After all, it had taken Cas and Crowley months to find a spell to pop the souls out. On that subject, everything there seemed to be on Purgatory was about letting things _out_ instead of getting in. He supposed no one was stupid enough to want to go there, but then why would they want to bring anything out either? It was people like that who made a hunter's job so much harder.

"You aren't much fun when you're brooding," Meg commented after at least a good half hour of silence from Sam's side of the car.

He glanced over at her, annoyed by her presence at the moment, just wishing he could be alone instead. "Well, sorry I'm not in the mood to talk about the latest fashion trends, but I think we've got bigger problems."

Meg smirked. "I always did like you better when you were being sarcastic. It suits you."

Sam made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, and there was silence for another few minutes before Meg started to poke around the car, riffling through the glove box.

"You can at least turn on some music," she said after finding Dean's box of cassette tapes and riffling through them. "Not that there's much worth listening to here."

"Just…don't touch those!" Sam demanded, gripping the wheel tighter and Meg looked at him in some surprise before she put the box back where she'd gotten it.

She leaned back against the seat, folding her arms over her chest. "Sorry, just trying to make conversation. Look, Sam, I'm here to help, you know. I know we haven't exactly been friends in the past, but we're on the same side now whether you like it or not."

Sam took a deep breath, trying to force himself to focus on something else besides the problem—like the road. "I know. I'm sure you'll forgive me if it takes some getting used to."

"Sure," Meg smiled. "So what's the plan? Where are we headed?"

"I thought we'd head to one of Bobby's old cabin. Dean and I left some of his lore books there, and there may be something we can use."

Meg cocked an eyebrow. "Research? You really are a nerd, aren't you?"

Sam frowned, bristling slightly. "You got a better idea?"

Meg shrugged. "Maybe there is something in the books, but I think our best bet is finding more demons and getting whatever information we can out of them."

"Running after demons will put us closer to Crowley, which I don't think either of us want right now," Sam reminded her.

"True," Meg agreed, but didn't seem too upset about it either.

"But," Sam had to agree, "If we can't find anything in the books, then it will be the next thing we try." He looked out at the road again, hands gripping the wheel tighter. "I think you can agree that we want to get them out of there as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Meg said, then turned to him with a smirk. "The less time I have to spend with you, the better."

Sam shook his head, but had to smile slightly. "Likewise."

They drove all day, and made it to the cabin just before midnight. Sam crashed for a few hours, albeit grudgingly. He was exhausted though, not having slept for—well, at this point, he couldn't actually remember how long it had been. Needless to say, he needed the rest.

He woke up later to find Meg already sorting through Bobby's old books, a pile of discarded ones at her feet. She looked up at him with a weary gaze as he unfolded himself from the couch and stretched the kinks out of his back.

"Find anything yet?" he asked halfheartedly.

"What does it look like?" she demanded, tossing another book into the pile of discards. "Though there's some that I can't read at all. I'm not exactly a linguist." Sam went into the small kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, and then went to sit at the table across from Meg. "Well, neither am I, but I have programs for that. Let's see what we can figure out."

Thus went the next several days. They seemed to research continuously. Sam called any hunter he could think of that might have some answer, or at least know where to look. He scoured ancient texts that had been uploaded online, and even went to far as to browse through Dante's _Devine Comedy_ and some of Lovecraft's works to see if there were any clues there. Nothing.

"Alright," Meg said, slamming a heavy book closed and standing from the table, stretching her back out. "We have been at this for days and there's still nothing. My meatsuit's eyes are watering and we're completely out of booze. I think it's time to make a supply run."

Sam glanced up at her from his computer with a small snort. Meg cocked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

Sam shook his head, a sudden lump forming in his throat. "Nothing. It's just…you kinda sounded like Dean there for a second."

Meg snorted. "Well, now I think I understand why he drinks so much. Come on, a couple hours run into town. Catch up on the goings on, grab some food and liquor."

Sam sighed and closed his laptop, standing up and grabbing his jacket and the keys to the Impala. "Okay, you're right. We do need to make a supply run." They were almost out of coffee too, and that was definitely not something Sam wanted to happen.

"Great let's go!"

They drove into the nearest town, and Sam stopped at the first gas station he came across. He and Meg went inside, and started to grab stuff they would need.

Sam was just browsing through the unappetizing selections of instant meals when the door to the store opened, and he had the strange feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Maybe it had to do with the whiff of sulfur on the air.

As soon as he had that thought, reaching for his knife, he heard Meg shout a warning to him from the other side of the store, and then turned around, face to face with two demons, one man, one woman.

"Hey, Winchester," the woman said with a smile as her eyes flicked black. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Crowley will be very pleased when we bring you and his favorite chew toy back to him," the other demon added with a grin. "He's been pretty uptight lately. Needs to blow off some steam."

"Yeah, not gonna happen," Sam told them, dropping his basket and pulling his knife from the back of his belt, slashing at the male demon who was a step closer to him. The demon leapt back, and the woman kicked out at Sam's knee, almost taking him out before he skipped to the side.

The other demon, though, simply waved a hand and flung Sam back into one of the shelves. He crashed with a grunt of pain, tumbling to the ground along with a bunch of crushed chips and Twinkies.

Sam scrambled for his knife, which he had dropped in the impact, his body screaming, but looked up to find that the female demon had it under her foot.

"Nice try, kiddo," she said, kicking it away, before the other demons reached down and grabbed Sam around the throat, hauling him to his knees, unable to breathe.

"Maybe Crowley will even let us have a turn with you," he told Sam with a grin, eyes flicking black. "Been a long time since I've gotten to play with a human."

He didn't get a chance to take Sam anywhere though, as his eyes suddenly sparked red, and he chocked out a cry, falling to the ground.

Sam collapsed, gasping for breath, as he saw Meg, now facing off with the female demon who looked around ready to smoke out.

"I don't think so, honey," Meg said and slammed the pommel of her angel blade against the demon's jaw, dropping her to the ground, unconscious. Meg looked down at her limp body with satisfaction before turning to Sam who had finally gotten his feet under him and grabbed his knife again.

"Jeez, how many times am I gonna have to save your ass, Winchester?" Meg asked, shaking her head as she bent to wipe her blade on the dead demon. Sam saw a rent in her sleeve and the bloody cut underneath and then looked to the other side of the store, seeing another dead demon.

"Thanks," he said, somewhat grudgingly. He was feeling sort of embarrassed at being so easily taken out by a couple demons so he changed the subject. "So, what are we going to do with her?"

Meg glanced down at the unconscious demon before smiling up at Sam. "She's our ticket out of research," she said smugly. "She's gonna tell us all about how to get into Purgatory."

At this point, Sam was willing to try anything. He nodded. "I'll pull the car around."


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, let's see if Sam and Meg's captive has some info that they need!**

Chapter Four

Meg watched as Sam finished up the devil's trap on the floor of the basement in the cabin and placed a chair in the center of it. She hadn't been surprised at all that they'd run into demons as soon as they had gone into town. In fact, to be honest, she had kind of been hoping they would. Sure, she understood how book research could help on some counts, but Sam needed to realize that there were sometimes better ways to get the information you needed, especially if he wanted to save his brother before he became monster chow.

And Castiel.

"There," Sam said, pulling her from thoughts of the angel as he straightened up and set the can of paint on a table. "I'll go get the demon."

A few minutes later, they had their captive tied up in a chair in the center of the devil's trap. The demon snarled at them angrily, her eyes flicking black.

"I don't know what you think you'll get from me, but if you think I'll make a deal with you to keep you away from Crowley, I'm not suicidal," she spat.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Meg told her. "We have more important things to worry about at the moment."

The demon scoffed. "Like what?"

"Like how to get into Purgatory," Sam stepped in, folding his arms over his chest. "You know anything about that?"

The demon stared at him before she threw her head back and laughed. Meg bristled, but she hadn't exactly been expecting a different reaction. She summoned her power and clenched her hand, cutting off the demon's laugh with a pained choke. "You think it's funny, I get it. Wanna share with the class?"

The demon turned her gaze to Meg, still coughing slightly. "Come on, really? _Purgatory_? You're a demon; have _you_ ever heard of a way in?"

Meg smiled. "No, that's why I'm asking you, numbskull."

"There is no way in, you should know that! Remember how long it took Crowley to figure out where it was? All those monsters he tortured?"

"Yeah, but I bet you were there helping him, so you must know something. At least some rumors," Meg said, stepping forward until she was right at the edge of the devil's trap, leaning forward with a sneer of her own. "And I would suggest you start talking before I really start questioning you in earnest."

The demon scoffed. "Really? Even if I did know anything, do you really think I would bother telling you? Go ahead and kill me; you know well enough that it would be better than anything Crowley will have in store for me if I go back and try to explain that I was taken captive by the two idiots I was supposed to capture for him in the first place."

Meg just gave a small chuckle, and smiled broadly. "Oh, I see. You think I'll be more merciful than Crowley? Well, maybe you don't remember, but I actually apprenticed under Alastair. Crowley couldn't even dream of comparing himself to such a master of the art."

Sam glanced at her, but she ignored him. The hunter stepped forward, clearing his throat and trying to affect a more reasonable tone. Meg smirked to herself. Of course he would play good cop.

"If you tell us everything you know, we'll give you a quick death," he said. "Otherwise, we will do everything we need to in order to get the information out of you."

"Ooh, I'm shaking," the demon said, faking a shiver. "Let me think about your offer…um, how about no."

"Okay, then," Sam said and pulled a flask of holy water from his coat, splashing some over the demon.

She howled, the holy water fizzling as it hit her skin. Meg stepped back slightly. Sam gave the captive another dose, and the demon's eyes turned black again.

"You know it's not gonna help if I don't know anything!" she snarled.

Sam shrugged. "That's not really my problem, then, is it?" He turned to Meg and gave her a nod. "She's all yours."

Meg smiled back and took her angel blade from the back of her belt. The other demon smirked as she saw it.

"Is that a gift from your boyfriend?" she asked with a sneer.

Meg's chest clenched, but she affected nonchalance, cocking an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

The demon continued to smirk. "Come on. Everyone knows how cozy you've gotten lately with the angel that screwed Crowley over on the Purgatory deal."

"Speaking of the Purgatory deal," Meg said, stepping around behind the demon, careful to stay at the edge of the devil's trap. "Tell me everything you know."

The demon shook her head. "Nothing!"

Meg cut her across the shoulder with the angel blade, leaving a burning mark in its path. The demon yelped and jerked in her ropes.

"I don't know anything! I told you already, no one does!" The demon snarled as Meg came around to face her again.

"That's too bad," Sam said with a shrug, standing off to one side again with his arms folded over his chest. "Because my brother is there, and I'm not going to stop until I get him out."

The demon gave a sudden laugh, delight in her eyes. "Oh, is _that_ what this is all about? I was wondering why Sam Winchester was tag-teaming with a demon instead of his big brother, but it all makes sense now. Oh, this is too good."

Meg pressed the blade to her throat. "You talk an awful lot for someone with nothing to say," she growled.

"Sorry, it's just…" the demon still laughed, practically in stitches. "Dean Winchester in Purgatory, of all places. Surrounded by all the things he's killed all his life. They are going to eat him alive." She grinned up at Sam. "You may as well not bother, your brother's probably mincemeat by now."

Sam's jaw tightened and he shifted slightly, hands clenching into fists, but he did his best to conceal his emotions. "Tell us what you know about Purgatory."

The demon groaned, and rolled her eyes, turning to Meg. "He doesn't get it, does he?"

Meg slashed the blade across her arm. "If he doesn't, neither do I," she said. "Because I also know that oh so many things can be remembered with the proper…leverage." She slowly pushed the point of the blade into the crook of the demon's arm and the demon finally let out a scream. Meg smiled with some satisfaction.

"Why are you even helping him?" the demon panted, glaring up at Meg before glancing over at Sam again. "Is Sam Winchester sleeping with another demon?"

"No," Sam and Meg both said firmly at the same time.

The demon shrugged. "Okay then, what else would make Meg, the traitorous little bitch she is, team up with a Winchester?"

"I'm asking the questions here," Meg snapped, giving her another cut, this time across the collarbone.

"Unless…" the demon mused, and then suddenly looked up at Meg with a sly smile. "Oh, I think I see what's going on here. See, I heard the angel, Castiel, he was there when the Winchesters killed Dick Roman. I bet the poor little birdie has been blown to Purgatory with Dean." She laughed again, Meg was getting really tired of that. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You want to save him, don't you?" The demon pouted condescendingly. "Poor Meg. Such a tragic love story cut short."

Meg grabbed a fistful of her hair, and carved a furrow into the demon's cheek. "Tell me what you know about Purgatory!" she ground out.

The demon winced, but still managed a smile. "I know your angelic boyfriend probably exploded on the way in. I can't imagine Purgatory is angel friendly."

Meg slammed the pommel of the angel blade into her face. "Tell me what you know!" she demanded, more forcefully this time.

"Meg," Sam warned, before turning to the demon, holding up the flask of holy water. "Answer the question."

But the demon wasn't interested in that anymore. Meg could see in her eyes that she knew she'd found Meg's weak spot and she was going to keep digging, and Meg wasn't going to be able to do anything about it.

"And if he didn't die immediately, blown into teeny tiny meat bits, I can't imagine he or Dean lasted long at all. Picture it, Meg, all those teeth and claws tearing into the poor defenseless little angel. His—admittedly sexy—meatsuit strewn everywhere. Maybe some feathers, some grace winking out, still conscious when they tear his guts out and—"

Meg stepped over the edge of the demon trap and stabbed her blade through the demon's shoulder, cutting her off with a scream of pain. "Shut up!" she yelled. "Tell me how to get to Purgatory!"

"Poor angel," the demon sneered. "Probably a mercy, really. After all, how could an angel love a filthy scrap of a demon like you, Meg?"

Meg lost it before she realized she was losing it. She slammed the blade so hard into the demon's face that the chair toppled backwards, and she raised the blade to stab the demon in the throat.

"Meg, stop!"

She heard Sam's voice a second before she felt his arm wrap around her waist, his hand gripping her sword arm, hauling her back before bending to repaint the devil's trap where he broke it getting her out. She struggled, kicking at him, but he was shoving her toward the stairs, practically carrying her up them before he closed the basement door behind them.

"Let me go," Meg snapped at him, and he finally did, but blocked the way to the basement, hands held out in front of him.

"Not until you cool off," he said firmly.

Meg ran a hand through her hair, breathing heavily, still furious. Mostly furious at herself for cracking like that. Alastair would have had her hide for such unprofessionalism. Not that she cared what he thought anymore, but she had always admired his fundamentals in a way.

"Meg," Sam said, his voice soft so that the demon below couldn't hear him. "What the hell was that?"

Meg spun around on him. "Nothing, okay? Let it go."

She started to walk over to the kitchenette where she had left a bottle of whisky, throwing her blade down on the table, before Sam grabbed her shoulder again.

"No, Meg, you can't just brush that off," Sam informed her firmly. "Look, we're working together here; that deserves some honesty, don't you think?"

Meg grunted and shook his hand off of her, grabbing the bottle of whisky and a glass.

"I can take over if you need me to," Sam offered.

"No," Meg said quickly.

"Meg, come on, you can't pretend like you don't care."

Meg didn't look at him, just took a long draft, feeling the liquor burn down her throat and wishing it would affect her more. Yeah, she sure as hell could pretend as long as she wanted. Or, she'd thought she could, until three minutes ago.

Sam sighed. "Look, I know it's not really my business, but come on. I know there's no real reason for you to help me get Dean and Cas out of Purgatory, even if we have helped each other in the past. I'm not an idiot, Meg."

Meg finally sighed and slumped down at the table, pouring another glass of liquor. She took another long draft before she finally spoke again. "Fine, okay, I've gotten kinda fond of the treetopper."

Sam smiled slightly and she glared at him. "And it's not just because he screwed Crowley over, though that was a huge step in his favor," she added.

"Okay, so why keep it from me?" Sam asked.

Meg scoffed. "Seriously? Not only are you and Dean the kind of protective brothers who go after their siblings' dates with shotguns, but newsflash, I haven't exactly been a good guy in the past."

Sam shrugged. "I know. But we've worked with worse people, and you're not so bad now."

"Thanks," Meg muttered. "But really, an angel and a demon? It already sounds like one of the godawful teen romance books." She shook her head, her heart panging as she thought of Cas' smile, the way he looked at her like she truly meant something—he was the only one who ever had. Sue her if that made a girl feel special. "But he's so…different."

Sam smiled, this time kindly. "Well, for the record, I know you must really care about him, because I don't know of another demon who would stick around and babysit a crazy angel and not try to use him for their own gain."

Meg almost smiled now. "I may have came close at first."

"But you didn't."

"No…I didn't," Meg sighed, looking into her glass. "I guess I just realized how rare a creature he was," she said almost as if to herself. "Kind of like a…unicorn. Hell, I'm not even drunk, damn you."

Sam laughed as she glared at him, but there was only kindness and maybe even understanding in his eyes. "I get it," he said finally.

"Right," Meg scoffed.

"No, really," Sam said sincerely and took a deep breath. "When, um, when I met Jess way back in collage, I was just so amazed that she was this, just _normal_ girl, and she liked me even though I had always thought I was anything _but_ normal. I mean, I was always a freak, or I felt like it, but she made me feel not so much like a freak, and I guess in that way, she made me a bit of a better person."

Meg swallowed hard, Sam's words hitting home. She knew Cas had made her a better person—demon, whatever. Honestly, ever since Lucifer had been thrown back in the cage, she'd been looking for a cause apart from just wanting revenge on Crowley, wandering aimlessly, and she'd kind of found it in Cas, in taking care of him, in saving the world alongside him and the Winchesters. Whatever had actually flipped the switch and made her realize she actually _liked_ the angel, genuinely _cared_ about him, she wasn't sure, but it had happened whether she liked it or not.

"All I'm gonna say is that I am glad that Cas has someone waiting for him on this side apart from just me," Sam told her. "I think he really needs that right now."

Meg sighed. "I know he does. I'm just not sure I'm the one he needs."

"I think Cas would beg to differ," Sam said sincerely. "I saw the way he looked at you too. He trusts you. Why do you think Dean and I left him with you in the first place?"

Meg finally allowed herself a small smile. "Well, I guess I should appreciate the fact that there were no shotguns—or holy water." She set her glass down and stood up, grabbing the angel blade again. "I think I'm ready to get back to work."

She and Sam went back down to the basement and Sam stepped over to right the demon's chair. She smirked as soon as she saw Meg.

"Had to cool down a little? Have yourself a little cry?" she taunted. "Sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"You're the only one who's going to be crying," Meg told her and summoned her powers instead of using the blade again, causing the demon to hemorrhage.

The demon choked, some blood dribbling from between her lips. Meg released her and she slumped, gasping.

"Okay, sunshine," Meg told her. "I'm done playing games. You just decide when you've had enough, 'kay?"

She really laid on the pressure this time, and the demon was starting to hack her guts up, while Sam sporadically threw holy water over her, and cut her with the demon knife.

Finally, they got somewhere.

"Alright!" the demon cried eventually, and Meg eased up slightly. The demon coughed and glared up at her.

"What was that?" Meg asked, taking a step forward. "You got something to share?"

The demon sneered half-heartedly, but was slumped forward and looking defeated. "I don't know if this will help, it's only a rumor."

"Tell us anyway," Sam snapped.

The demon spat out a gob of blood. "I heard there's these reapers who will take souls out of hell. For a price."

Sam frowned. "Like… coyotes? How does that help us?"

The demon glanced up at him. "Rumor has it their rout, in and out, runs through Purgatory."

Meg frowned. "Wait, then why didn't Crowley know about that when he was trying to find the place?"

The demon shrugged. "I don't know. But that's all I have."

Sam and Meg shared a look. "Then how do we find one of these reapers?" Sam demanded.

The demon sighed. "There's one guy I know of."

She gave them an address, and Sam wrote it down, and then nodded to Meg. "Okay then, I guess your services are no longer required."

Meg smiled at the demon as she stepped toward her. A look of fear flashed through the demon's eyes as Meg drove her angel blade through her throat. She wasn't gonna lie, it felt good watching that bitch blink out.

Sam scuffed the devil's trap to let her out.

"Alright, then," Meg said. "Let's go find a reaper."

* * *

 _Dean and Cas traveled with Benny for several days_. It was getting hard for Dean to remember how long they had actually been down there in purgatory. Every day seemed to roll into each other, just lots of hiking through the seemingly endless forest, and taking on whatever monsters decided to try for them.

The attacks had become increasingly frequent as the days went by. Dean wasn't sure if it was because they were traveling through the heart of Purgatory now where it was more populated, or if it was just because more monsters were starting to think of taking a crack at the infamous Dean Winchester. Either way, apparently word had gotten around, and Cas, being a 'beacon', made it easy to track them down.

Dean had noticed a marked change in Cas too as the days progressed. The angel had become increasingly quieter and less like he was off his rocker, not coming up with nonsense about bees and random observations on the surroundings. Now that he seemed to be getting his sanity back, though, Dean wasn't entirely sure it was a good thing. His friend seemed to get more and more distant, only speaking when spoken to, and even then, only with as few words as were necessary. He also looked like he was only getting more and more worn down, and still slept at night when he had to exert more energy than usual to get them out of the Levis' path. And when he did sleep, he usually woke Dean or Benny up with nightmares. Dean wasn't sure what he would do about his friend, but he knew he would be glad when they finally found the portal. He decided that he could figure Cas and his problems out when they got back topside and had more time to discuss those things, not being constantly under attack by all things evil.

Benny on the other hand, had become an ally, and truly, more of a friend to Dean than the hunter had expected. He had found the vampire not only to be a good comrade in arms, always watching his back during a fight, but also just a nice guy to have around. He had a wry sense of humor that surprised Dean on more than one occasion, and sometimes they would exchange stories at night or on the trail to pass the time, and Dean realized that he could sometimes forget that Benny was a vamp and not just a buddy or fellow hunter. He had begun to relax around him finally, which was good because if he hadn't been able to trust Benny, then he would have been in trouble with all the fights they found themselves in day in, day out.

One night, they holed up in a cave-like place among some rocks, and Dean watched worriedly as Cas instantly slumped down against a large boulder, eyes closing in weariness. He narrowed his own eyes at his friend, taking stock of his appearance. Cas was filthy for one, but then they all were; scrapping with monsters wasn't exactly a clean sport. But it was just weird to see Cas with his trench coat so covered in mud and monster blood and a number of other disgusting things. He hadn't bothered to mojo it clean like he normally would have, so Dean wondered if he just didn't want to exert the energy, or, worse, if he just didn't care enough to do so.

He also looked horrible physically. Dean had seen the angel wounded, dying—dead. But this almost hurt more. Seeing his gaunt face, and hollow, exhausted eyes told Dean exactly how much Purgatory was weighing on Cas, even if the stubborn SOB would never come out and say it.

Dean sighed, and sat down against the rock as well, a couple feet from Cas, while Benny began to build a fire. "Hey, you doing okay?" he asked.

Cas opened his eyes slightly and turned to grace Dean with something that could be described as a baleful look. Dean thought he saw something of his old friend in his eyes for just a moment, but Cas just said. "I'm okay."

"Yeah, well, you look like crap, and that's being generous," Dean told him. "Seriously, Cas, I know this zapping us everywhere—just Purgatory itself—is weighing on you. Maybe we can find a way, a sigil or something, to hide ourselves from the Leviathans."

Cas shook his head. "If there was something, I would have used it by now. It's okay, Dean. I'll be fine."

 _Yeah right, because you're always fine. You know you learned that one from me, you idiot._ Dean thought angrily but he knew he wasn't going to get anything more out of Cas now. All he could do was just keep a close eye on his friend and make sure he wasn't going to keel over on them if he exerted too much energy.

He sighed and stood up, going to help Benny with the fire and prepared for another long night.

* * *

 _The next morning dawned_ with the same murkiness that Dean had come to expect as the only light source you got in Purgatory, and they started on their way again. Cas had slept some the night before, even though it had ended in just more nightmares, but he did look a little less haggard that morning, so that was a good thing.

"So how much farther is this portal?" Dean demanded of Benny after they had been walking for a couple hours and he was getting tired of the vampire's jaunty whistling.

"You're just gonna have to hold your horses, chief. It's hard to find a precise direction in Purgatory, but I know which way we're headed and we'll get there eventually."

Dean bit back a retort, knowing that the vampire was doing the best he could. Hell, he certainly didn't know which way he was going down here. The best navigation he could manage was when they were next to the central river that seemed to run through Purgatory. That at least obeyed the natural rules of a river and flowed one way.

"Dean," Cas said suddenly and Dean turned to see that the angel had stopped a couple steps behind him, his angel blade in his hand.

"What? Is it Levis?" Dean asked, already pulling out his weaponry.

"No, but, there're a lot of whatever it is," Cas said, eyes darting around.

Dean turned to Benny as well, seeing the vampire sniffing the air before he pulled his own weapon out into the open. "He's right. I can't tell how many but…I smell werewolf, vampire, and ghoul."

"Dammit," Dean muttered. This had become a common occurrence for them. Monsters tag-teaming in an attempt to bring them down. Well, they wouldn't have any better luck than the others had.

As soon as they had formed their defense position, the three of them back to back in a tight circle, the first werewolf ran, snarling, from among the trees. It flung itself at Benny, but the vampire growled out a war cry and swung hard with his weapon, driving it into the were's chest.

That opened up the stage for all the other fuglies waiting in the wings. At least a dozen other monsters of various types surged out toward them, attacking from all sides. Dean was just able to hold off a vampire's advance before he was attacked by a werewolf. He somehow got the haft of his weapon between the were's teeth before it sank its fangs into Dean's shoulder. Cas then stabbed it with the angel blade, and Dean was left to fight off the next attacker.

He heard Benny shout and turned abruptly to see if the vampire needed help, when he heard a maniacal scream just as something leapt out of a tree above him and bore him to the ground.

"Winchester," the thing hissed, and Dean figured it had to be a ghoul. He _hated_ ghouls. One of its friends joined it as he started to struggle, trying to throw the first ghoul off of him, but the second one grabbed his legs and made to flip him onto his back.

Dean wasn't having that though. He wrenched one arm free, and slammed his weapon into one of the ghouls' bodies. Unfortunately it didn't make the headshot he had been hoping for and it only angered the ghoul more because it shrieked and grabbed Dean's arm, wrenching it so swiftly that he felt his bone snap. He screamed at the sharp, raw agony.

"Dean!" he heard Cas shout from somewhere that sounded a lot farther away than it should, but no one immediately came to his rescue so he figured the angel was tied up.

One of the ghouls kicked him onto his back and they held him down, grabbing his hunting knife from the back of his jeans and waving it in front of his face.

"Oh, we're going to enjoy eating you, Winchester, you're famous, you know," one said, an evil grin on its face. "It's been _so long_ since we've had fresh human flesh. Red blood, hot entrails." It was practically salivating as it leaned over and made a cut on Dean's cheek with the knife, licking the blood that gathered from the knife blade. Dean cringed, jerking his head to one side as he struggled weakly. But the other ghoul simply applied pressure to his broken arm and he nearly passed out with the pain again.

"I don't even know where to start," the ghoul said tracing Dean's knife over his body teasingly as the other one laughed.

"Gut him while he's still fresh," the second ghoul encouraged.

"Cas," Dean called weakly, still struggling to escape the ghouls' grip as he craned his neck to see what had happened to his friends. "Benny!"

He didn't get a chance to worry though, because the ghoul holding his knife had simply decided to stab him in the stomach.

Dean screamed, writhing against the ghouls' hold, but the one with the knife only opened him up further.

"Fresh meat!" the second ghoul was practically jittering with excitement.

But they didn't get to eat him. Because at that moment another figure hurtled over and wrenched them away. Dean barely registered a huge flash of light, which made him squeeze his eyes shut, accompanied by the ghouls' screams before the sound of two bodies hitting the ground reached his ears.

"Dean!"

A hand had settled on his chest, and he forced his eyes open to see Cas staring down at him with frantic worry in his eyes. The angel was gasping for breath, looking barely able to sit upright and Dean realized he must have smote the ghouls.

That was the last thing Dean was able to focus on. He felt blood pooling with increasing swiftness underneath him and he was light-headed even lying flat on his back. His pain started to dull, fading into the back of his mind as the blackness overtook him and drew him down.

* * *

 _Castiel looked down at Dean helplessly_ , willing him to stay conscious, but Dean was bleeding heavily and he must be in excruciating pain. He placed a hand over the bleeding wound in Dean's stomach, sick with the feeling of the blood eking out through his fingers. Castiel really wished he hadn't smote those ghouls now, but he'd had little choice since he'd lost his angel blade in the melee and Dean would have been dead if he'd waited another second. He still reached for his grace in order to heal Dean, but only managed to coagulate the blood a bit, before he was threatened with unconsciousness should he continue. Like his wings, using his grace here felt like drawing it up from the mire, and it took so much more energy. More than he had to give right now, even to one of his dearest friends when Dean was probably dying.

"Cas."

Castiel looked up to see Benny hurrying over to him, having finished off the last of their attackers. The vampire handed over Castiel's angel blade and he took it almost grudgingly, slipping it back into his coat. It wouldn't do him any good now.

"He okay?"

"No," Castiel snapped. "And I have no more power to heal him right now." He was feeling growing anxiety in his chest, and he tried to push it down, tried to ignore it. But he just couldn't. It wouldn't go away. Part of him wanted to fall back into the blissful, slightly ignorant, persona he had been in after he had taken on Sam's scars, but he'd been slowly coming back to himself, finding less and less reason to hide behind someone else's scars and more and more reason to embrace his own mistakes once again and face them head on.

He swallowed hard, and took a deep breath, before reaching out to lift Dean's shirt to fully see the damage. The sight of the wound only made him sicker to his stomach.

Benny whistled. "Damn, chief," he muttered and started to riffle thought his pockets, coming up with a handkerchief, which he pressed against Dean's wound, applying pressure. Castiel wanted to warn him against the likelihood of germs, but they didn't really have any other choice here. If they didn't stop the bleeding, Dean wouldn't have time to get an infection.

Luckily, what small pittance of healing Castiel had been able to do had slowed the bleeding to a crawl, so that was something. But the wound was deep and Castiel knew there would be internal damage involved. He swallowed hard.

"We need to patch him up and get him out of here before more monsters show," Benny said. "We need some bandages."

Castiel looked around and cringed at the thought of using some of the dead monster's clothing, but again, he would rather Dean not bleed out. He could heal an infection later. This was hopefully just a temporary fix anyway until he got his strength back. He reluctantly stood, hesitant to leave Dean with the vampire, even if Benny had proven himself to be a sufficient ally.

Benny looked up at him with some amusement. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna drink him."

Castiel pressed his lips together and hurriedly went to a werewolf he had killed before he lost his blade, and started cutting away layers of his clothing that weren't as filthy as the rest. He and Benny then took the strips and started to bind the wound in Dean's abdomen. Castiel tried to ignore the sight of things that shouldn't be seen from the outside of someone's body, and simply pressed more bandages over the wound. He was awkward at this, not having any experience really with caring for wounds this way. He was disgusted with himself for being so weak.

After they bound the stab wound as well as they could he checked Dean's arm which was obviously broken since it was at an unnatural angle, but there wasn't much he could do about that right now either.

"We should splint that so it don't get worse at least," Benny commented.

Castiel looked up at him, annoyance roiling through him at his weakness. "I don't know what to do," he spat helplessly.

"No worries," Benny said calmly. "Just need an extra pair of hands."

The vampire grabbed a couple sticks and walked Castiel through the procedure. Even though Castiel was still beating himself up, he was grateful that Benny was here, and was showing him how to help Dean. He showed Castiel how to brace Dean's arm while the vampire swiftly set the bone. Dean moaned and his body jerked, reacting from the shock, but Castiel was glad the human was at least unconscious for that part. They bound the sticks in place and Castiel settled Dean's arm in its makeshift splint over his chest and bound it against his body so it wouldn't get jostled as they moved him.

"We need to find shelter," he said, looking around at the dimming light in the forest. It would be dark in a couple hours.

"There should be someplace nearby we can hole up for the night," Benny said and unceremoniously reached down and slipped his arms under Dean, lifting him with a slight grunt. Castiel wanted to protest, but knew the vampire had more strength than he did right now and would cause less discomfort to Dean. The last thing Castiel wanted to do was drop his friend, and they didn't really have time to make a stretcher.

Benny nodded to his and Dean's dropped weapons. "You fend off anything evil. I got him."

Castiel collected the weapons and led the way past the corpses they had left, continuing further into the woods.

They walked for a while, without any sign of anything that could be used as shelter. Castiel thought he felt the slight disturbance he always did when the Leviathan were getting closer, but it disappeared soon enough and he thought—hoped—he might just be imagining things. Either way, he was worried that the smell of Dean's blood would attract more creatures of Purgatory and he was anxious to find some shelter.

Luckily it wasn't too long before they came across a place where three trees met with a rock formation and there was a cave at the base of it. He was about to point it out to Benny, when he heard the vampire curse.

"Cas," Benny called, snapping the angel's attention to him with the sound of urgency in his voice. The vampire had stopped walking and was looking intently down at Dean's limp figure. "Cas, I think we're losing him."

"What?" Castiel demanded, going over to press his fingers to Dean's pale forehead, taking quick stock of the hunter's vitals. Terror washed over him as he realized Benny was right. "Let's get him somewhere safe, then I'll see what I can do." He didn't know whether he was strong enough to heal Dean fully yet, but he would give his friend everything he had. At least now they had shelter so if he passed out it wouldn't be so bad.

Benny hurried behind him, hefting Dean the last few yards before they ducked inside the cave. Castiel did a quick sweep to make sure it was empty and then helped Benny situate Dean as gently as possible on the ground in a pile of leaves that would cushion him.

Castiel put a hand on Dean's chest, feeling the failing beat of his heart and his thready, labored breathing. He felt sick, knowing this was all his fault. He should have left Dean with Benny the instant the vampire showed up and they found out they could trust him. Castiel had been the reason they had been fighting non-stop since they got here, drawing the monsters to them in droves because they could see his grace. And now Dean was lying here clinging to life, and it was Castiel's fault. Again. It seemed that no matter what he did lately, his decisions always had such terrible backlash that they almost got his friends, his family, killed. He couldn't take it anymore.

He began to think it was probably best he just stay here in Purgatory among the monsters. After all, how was he any better than they were?

"How's your mojo?" Benny asked him. "You good enough to do this?"

Castiel kept focused on Dean's heartbeat for a few seconds, before he closed his eyes. "I have to be," he said and reached for his grace, drawing every last ounce of it past the Purgatory infused barriers until he could feel it singing through his veins. He focused his power through his hand and into Dean. The hunter stiffened, back arching and Castiel heard him give a small whimper. He knew the healing process was slow as well, probably painful, but he kept at it, forcing everything he had into healing his friend.

He didn't stop until he felt the snap of Dean's bone fusing back together and by then, black spots were swimming over his eyes, and he pulled back with a gasp, nearly collapsing.

Benny looked at him before he turned back to Dean, pulling away the bandages. "Damn, that's some power you got there."

Castiel was still getting his breath back, eyes closed as he leaned up against a rock. "He'll be fine now. He'll probably sleep until morning, but he's completely healed." He probably should have done it in stages, but Castiel had a feeling that he should go ahead and heal Dean all the way now. He wasn't going to count on being there in the morning.

It was then he felt that terrible prickle between his shoulder blades that he always felt when the Leviathan were coming. He almost groaned, but he couldn't give it away. There was no way he could get all three of them out of their path right now, not with how much energy he had already exerted. In fact the surge of grace he had used to heal Dean had probably been what alerted them to their location in the first place.

Besides, it was better this way.

He cleared his throat and turned to Benny, trying to make his voice as casual as he could. "Could you go and find some firewood? I think it would be a good idea to keep Dean warm. His body might still be in shock."

The vampire cast one more look at the unconscious hunter, and nodded, reaching for his weapon. "Yeah. Be right back."

Castiel watched him leave, making sure he was far enough away before he staggered to his feet, looking down at Dean. Something pulled in his chest and he closed his eyes tightly before he reached down and gripped his friend's shoulder tightly. "I'm sorry, Dean," he whispered before he straightened up again, spread his wings with a great effort, and flew away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Let's see what trouble they all get into this time...**

Chapter Five

Castiel had to rest for a couple seconds after he landed. He had already expended so much strength healing Dean, that he knew he wasn't going to be able to run for much longer, but if he could at least lead the Leviathans away from Dean and Benny, that would be good enough for him.

He felt them getting closer and led them away again, making sure they were following. This time, he staggered to a stop, having to lean, panting, against a tree for a few long seconds to get his breath back.

There was something akin to regret deep in his chest that it had to end like this. Castiel had died before, true, but he'd only just begun to repair things with Dean again, and though he was pretty sure Sam had somehow found it in himself to forgive him for breaking his wall in the first place, Castiel would still regret that he wouldn't be able to do more for the Winchesters, the humans who had become his family. He had made many mistakes, things he knew he could never make up for, and now he never would be able to. Dean had once called him a brother, before everything had completely blown up in their faces. It had been Castiel's fault for betraying that trust of family, working with Crowley and lying about it, even though he had truly believed it was the right thing at the time. And everything Dean had said, though it had hurt him, was justified. But then before they had gone off to fight Dick Roman, Dean had told him he would rather have Castiel, cursed or not. It had been a nice sentiment, and Castiel wished it to be true, but he knew it would never start to make up for what had happened between them. This, though…this might.

And then there was Meg, another regret he carried. She was a demon, yes, but one who had spent weeks looking after him when he wasn't himself, terse at times, but he knew it was always as a cover to hide the softness that showed through the gaps. His thorny beauty…yes, he would miss Meg a lot too. He wished there were some way he could at least thank her for everything she'd done for him.

But that was enough pointless wishing and wondering. The Leviathans were catching up and he thought he might have enough strength for one more flight.

He did make it, barely.

Castiel slammed into the ground, his wings trembling with exertion and refusing to go any further. He tried to push himself up but vertigo overtook him and he rolled onto his side to throw up, tasting blood as he did so.

Multiple amorphous beings slammed into the ground around him, the black ichor taking human form. He gazed blearily up at them as he collapsed onto his back, just trying to concentrate on getting air into his lungs.

The Leviathans stepped over to him, staring down at him with disgust. One kicked him in the side viciously, making him grunt.

"Castiel. We've been looking for you for a long time," it said, a wicked grin splitting its face.

"Yes," said another with a similar leer. "We're going to have so much fun with you. Make you pay for what you did."

Castiel forced his fear away as they reached down and dragged his unresisting body up and away. If his sacrifice could get Dean out of here, finally start to repair the damage and the betrayals to their friendship that he had caused, and bring the hunter back to his brother who must be frantic by now, then he would gladly die a thousand times.

* * *

 _Sam parked the Impala_ on the side of the road. It was night, raining, and he was beginning to feel more and more like this was going to be a fruitless venture. He glanced over at Meg as she looked out the window, seeing her shoulders were slightly slumped as well.

Sam pressed his lips together, and shut the engine off. "Okay. Let's see if that demon was lying or not."

Meg grunted noncommittally and pushed open the door. Sam stepped out of the car as well, feet splashing on the street and he and Meg started down the sidewalk toward the spot they had been told they would find the reaper.

"Sam, look," Meg said, nudging his arm.

To Sam's surprise, there was a taxi parked right where it was supposed to be, a man leaning against it as if he were on break. He and Meg crossed the street.

"Hey," Meg greeted the taxi driver, flashing her black eyes. "Got a moment?"

The man—or reaper, Sam supposed—started slightly, looking between them before he got a wary look on his face. "What do you want?"

"We know what you do," Sam said. "We want to do business."

The reaper's eyes widened. "But…you are mortal. Flesh and blood."

"But if we wanted to cross the border," Sam coaxed.

The man's brows narrowed, eyes flicking toward Meg. "Into Hell?"

"Not quite that far," Meg offered. "Just into Purgatory."

"But…why?" the reaper said, looking nervous.

"Why is none of your business, can you do it or not?" Sam asked sharply, starting to get impatient.

The reaper shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip, before he lowered his voice. "I suppose I _can_ do it, but I have overhead, special skills. It will be pricey."

"Okay, how much for two tickets down with plus ones for the ride back?" Meg asked.

The reaper's eyes settled on Sam. "You are resourceful, one day you will owe me a favor."

Sam frowned. "You say that like you know me."

The reaper smirked. "You're a Winchester. We all know you. And you," he turned to Meg. "Crowley has a big reward out for whoever brings you in."

Meg glowered at him. "Don't get any ideas, sunshine, or you can forget about the payment."

"So you'll do it?" Sam demanded.

The reaper hesitated for a second, making Sam want to strangle him, but he finally nodded. "I'll do it. Meet me here tomorrow morning, and I'll take you through."

"Tomorrow morning?" Sam demanded. "Why not now?"

"I'm doing you a favor, Winchester," he reaper said. "I would take it, if I were you."

Sam clenched his jaw angrily. "Fine."

He and Meg hurried off back to the Impala. "What a dick," she muttered.

"Yeah, but if he can get us to Purgatory, then I'll take what I can get," Sam said.

She looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow. "You actually trust the guy?"

Sam frowned, shaking his head. "No. But what choice do we have? And let's be honest, we've both had to trust a lot shadier people before and come out on top."

Meg cocked her head in agreement and they got back into the Impala to drive to a motel for the night. Sam really hoped this wasn't going to be one of those plans that came back to bite them in the ass later.

* * *

 _Dean woke with a start,_ an overall bad feeling instantly enveloping him. He gasped, sitting up, hand subconsciously going to his stomach where he found blood crusted around a hole in his shirt, but there was no pain and no wound underneath. Likewise, his arm, which had hurt like a son of a bitch last he remembered, was fine and functional.

"Cas," he croaked.

"'Bout time you woke up. We got a problem."

Dean glanced around to see Benny sitting by a smoldering fire, his weapon propped against his knee. Dean glanced around the cave they appeared to be in, looking for Cas, but didn't see the angel anywhere.

"What happened?" He groaned, forcing himself to his feet. "Where's Cas?"

"Your halo took a run for it while I went to get firewood last night," Benny said blandly.

Dean's heart seized in his chest. "He _what?_ You let him go? What the hell, Benny?!"

The vampire got to his feet as well, holding out a hand placatingly. "Easy there, chief, you know how he just flits around. I couldn't just run off with you unconscious and covered in blood, smelling like a feast to any creature in the vicinity."

"Why didn't you wake me up, then?" Dean demanded, fear driving his anger to the max. The thought of Cas out there alone, making his way through the monster infested land while acting like a beacon to every evil thing, especially the Levis, made him sick to his stomach.

"I tried, but you were out. I think he made sure of that," the vampire offered.

"Dammit, Cas," Dean growled, running a hand through his hair. He swiftly gathered his weapons that had been lying beside him and started toward the entrance of the cave. Benny hurried after him.

"Hold on there, Dean," the vampire said, still jogging since Dean was not about to stop. "Let's talk about this for a second."

Dean spun around. "What is there to talk about? Cas is out there with who knows what on his tail, and being a self-sacrificing idiot like usual. He's not gonna take precautions, in fact he's probably _hoping_ those Levis will catch him, expecting we'll just make a run for the portal and leave him here."

Benny was quiet for a moment, then said. "Well, maybe we should. You know—if that's what he wanted and all."

Dean was in his face instantly, the blade of the stone weapon he had taken from that vamp pressed against Benny's throat. "I am not leaving him here. Cas is family. And I may have done a crap job of making sure he knows that recently, but I am not just gonna leave him here to be torn apart like a scrap of bait."

"And if you get killed in the process, what's he gonna think?" Benny returned.

"At least he'll have someone to die with," Dean said firmly and took the blade from Benny's throat. "Now I don't care if you come with me or not, but if you can find him at all, track his grace or whatever it is you can see, then at least point me in the right direction."

He started off again, hearing an exasperated sigh behind him before Benny's footsteps started to follow. Dean was actually a bit surprised, glancing over his shoulder.

Benny shook his head. "You ain't getting rid of me that easy, brother. I'm not about to let my only ride out of here run off and get himself killed. Besides, I hold to my deals."

Dean studied him for a long moment, and then nodded in gratitude. "Okay then, which way?"

They were too far away from Cas for Benny to locate him, but inevitably, they ran into trouble with another group of vampires who came after them soon after they started out.

They made short work of them, but Dean stopped Benny from killing the last one.

"Why?" Benny asked.

"Because, he may be useful," Dean said, and snatched the vamp away from Benny, slamming him against a tree and pressing a blade threateningly against his neck. "Okay then, bloodsucker. You tell me what I want to know and I'll kill you easy. You seen the angel around?"

The vampire started to laugh, a delighted grin on his face that Dean didn't like at all. He slammed the vamp's head against the trunk. "You wanna share with the class, chuckles?"

The vampire shook his head. "You won't see your angel again. The Leviathans have him."

"What?" Dean demanded, his heart freezing in his chest as he fought to keep the horror off of his face. "Where?"

The vamp shrugged. "Somewhere to the east. Buddy of mine saw it himself. Said the halo screamed real nice."

Dean drove the knife into the vampire's shoulder, making _him_ scream. "Where is he?" he demanded.

"I told you, that's all I know!" the vamp howled. "Go torture someone else!"

Dean stepped back and cleanly cut the vamp's head off, wrenching the blade out of where it had stuck in the tree trunk. He was breathing heavily, trying to take in this new information. Eventually, he turned around and strode past Benny who had been waiting and watching silently through the whole exchange. "Let's go."

"Hold on there, chief, we need to think about this."

Dean spun around on him, anger flashing in his eyes. "There's nothing to think about, Benny. If the Levis have Cas, we need to get him."

"Dean, I'm sorry to have to say this, but he's probably dead by now," the vampire said. "And if you run over there without a solid plan, you'll be dead too. This ain't just some vamps or werewolves! These are _Leviathans_."

"Yeah, and I've killed them once, I can do it again," Dean informed him even though he knew he couldn't with what he had here. "But either way, I'm not leaving Cas here, even if…even if we're too late. I have to know at least."

Benny closed his eyes, but heaved a sigh. "Alright then. I already died once anyway. Second time can't be too bad, right?"

They headed off again, every minute eating a hole in Dean's stomach as he pictured the Leviathans torturing Cas and the feathered idiot thinking he was alone and playing the martyr as usual. Dean would prove him wrong this time. He would get there in time, he swore he would. There were no other options.

They walked for hours and were forced to camp for the night. Dean didn't sleep. He couldn't. Every hour that passed was one more where Cas was suffering and he knew, deep down, that it was his fault. Not only because Cas was probably doing it in some stupid attempt to protect him, but because he'd pretty much made Cas feel expendable and he knew it. He swore that if they got out of there alive, he would do everything in his power to fix that. To make sure he treated Cas like the brother he truly felt him to be when Dean wasn't being an idiot himself. And even more, make sure that _Cas_ knew it too.

They left before it was completely light, and walked for several more hours. Dean caught a few more monsters and they pointed them in the right direction—before Dean killed them.

After a while, Benny stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, and Dean could feel the vampire tensing.

"What is it?" he asked quietly in case they were being watched.

"I hear something," he said, cocking his head to one side. "And I can sense Cas' halo."

"Where?" Dean demanded, already feeling some relief. If Benny could sense Cas' halo then he was at least still alive.

Benny pointed ahead. "That way. Dean…"

Dean had started off but he stopped and spun around to shoot an annoyed looked at the vampire.

"What's the plan?" Benny asked.

"We get Cas."

Benny growled in exasperation. "You are suicidal, you know that?"

"And technically, you're dead, so what do you have to lose?" Dean demanded. "Look, I already told you you could leave at any time and you haven't, so are you in this or not?"

"I am, but I'm not gonna be stupid about it," Benny protested. "Let's scope it out first, see what we're dealin' with, and then figure out a rescue plan. Sound good?"

Dean clenched his jaw, but the vampire was sounding an awful lot like Sam now, and for a moment, he was really glad he had someone like that with him in this. He would never admit it out loud, but sometimes he did need someone to be the sensible one. He sagged slightly. "You're right. Let's go then."

They crept up on the Leviathan camp. It was already getting dark, and that provided some cover for them as they moved silently through the shadows. Dean looked around, seeing shadowy figures, but not spotting a familiar tan trench coat yet.

Benny nudged his shoulder. "There."

Dean squinted in the light, but once he was looking in the right direction, it was hard to miss Cas. Most of the Levis—he had counted five in all in the camp—had gathered around a tree. As Dean looked closer, he realized there was a slumped figure tied to the trunk. Cas.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he watched one of the Levis lean in close to Cas and cause the angel to give a strangled scream. It took everything in Dean's power not to rush off and take down the bastards right then, but he knew he would have a chance to rescue Cas before they ate him.

"Alright," Benny said decisively. "I guess I get to play bait."

Dean turned to him with a frown. "What? Why you?"

Benny raised an eyebrow. "Because I'm faster and have a better chance of holding my own. Not planning on getting caught, though, mind."

Dean looked skeptical, but Benny straightened up, and held out a hand. "Give me your coat."

Dean frowned, but then saw what he was doing. "Think they'll fall for that?" He shrugged out of the coat and Benny shed his wool peacoat to put it on.

"We can only hope. Least you haven't had a chance to shower so this is nice and ripe," Benny chuckled wryly as he pulled Dean's leather coat tightly around his broader figure. "Okay, here goes. See you on the other side, brother."

Dean clasped his hand briefly before Benny took off, creeping around the edge of the camp a lot less carefully than they had before.

One of the Levis looked up and sniffed the air. "I smell the Winchester," it said.

"Where?" one of its companions asked, just as Benny made a run for it, making sure they saw.

"There!" another Levi cried, and that got their attention away from Cas for a moment as they surged after Benny.

Dean couldn't believe they had all gone after him, but he was going to take the win where he could get it. He flew down the incline to the camp and straight over to the tree Cas was bound to.

He reached out and gently took Cas' face between his hands, drawing it up before seeing the angel was unconscious. Dean cursed silently.

"Cas," he hissed, looking over the slumped figure, and searching him with his hands. Even though it was really too dark to see any details, he could see dark spots all over Cas' clothing, felt the sticky wetness, and knew it would be blood. "Son of a bitch," he cursed, taking a knife from his belt to start sawing through the ropes. "Cas, come on, man, wake up."

Cas moaned, and tried to lift his head. Dean hacked through the ropes, making the angel protest more as they likely rubbed against wounds.

"Dean?" Cas murmured incredulously.

Dean clapped a hand to his shoulder briefly. "Yeah, Cas, it's me. Stay with me, okay? I'm gonna get you out of here."

A heart-wrenching sound, halfway between a sob and a moan escaped Cas' throat. "It's too late. Just run," he pleaded.

Dean got the last of the ropes cut and just barely caught Cas as he collapsed. "What do you mean it's too late? Come on, we gotta get out of here before they come back."

"Dean," Cas growled, gripping his sleeve and dragging him to a stop. Dean finally turned to meet his eyes, seeing the fear, and the pain and a thousand other emotions in Cas' eyes. "They poisoned me. I—I don't think I have long."

"What?" Dean demanded, his heart pounding, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas said brokenly. "I wanted to help get you out, but…I can't. You have to go now—run. I'll slow you down, and it won't do any good anyway."

"No. No way," Dean said, starting to drag him bodily away from the camp. "If you're gonna die, then I'm not gonna let you do it alone."

"Dean, please!" Cas cried. "You have to get back to Sam!"

"You're my brother too!" Dean said, louder than he probably should have with Levis nearby. "And I sure as hell am not leaving you to rot here as the big mouths' plaything!"

Cas made another sound like a sob, but gripped Dean's sleeve tighter. "Fine. But it's not going to change anything."

Dean set his jaw and started moving again. He would be the judge of that. He could hear commotion not too far away, and knew Benny wasn't going to be able to hold them off much longer. He actually had no idea how they were going to keep the Levis from finding them again, but at the moment, all he cared about was getting Cas somewhere comfortable, and figuring out how to cure this poison, because they _would_ cure it.

A rustling to the right, made Dean spin around, weapon held ready, but it was just Benny, coming out of the woods.

"I shook 'em for a little, but it won't last long," he said.

"We gotta find some place to hide," Dean told him. "Help me."

Benny ducked in on Cas' other side and the two of them hurried the wounded angel along between them. Cas didn't make a sound, but Dean could tell from his tense muscles that he was suffering.

"Stop," Cas finally pleaded.

"No," Dean told him firmly.

"Dean, they're coming," Cas gritted out. "Just…"

"Just what, leave you?" Dean demanded angrily. "No way. We've already been over this."

"Fine then," Cas growled and reached up to touch Dean and Benny's shoulders.

Dean realized a moment too late what he was doing. "Cas, no!"

They spun through a sickening vortex for a fraction of a second before they crashed on the other side. Dean gasped for breath, rolling onto his back from his faceplant, spitting leaves and dirt from his mouth, and looked over to see Benny doing the same. Cas though…

"Cas!" he cried, staggering the few steps to his friend who was lying on his back, completely unconscious. Dean quickly checked his vitals, found a thready pulse and also that Cas was burning up with a fever.

"Dammit," he cursed.

"Dean," Benny groaned. "We gotta get to some shelter."

Dean nodded and then unceremoniously heaved Cas into a fireman's carry, staggering slightly under his weight before he got his footing. Benny led the way, and thankfully it wasn't long before they found a cave.

Benny helped Dean lay Cas down as gently as possible, providing Dean's jacket as a pillow for the angel.

"We need light," Dean said. His phone had long since run out of battery and he wished he had it now because it would sure as hell be better than firelight.

"I'll get firewood," Benny said and hurried out of the cave.

"Come on, Cas," Dean murmured, shaking his head. "You stupid son of a bitch. Why'd you have to go and do that?"

Benny came back before long and Dean helped him build a fire so they could see what they were doing, before he started to wrestle Cas' coat off, the wounds that covered his body coming into light.

"Damn," Benny commented. "They really did a number on him."

"Not helping," Dean growled as he took stock of the wounds that littered Cas' body. Most of them were cuts or shallow stab wounds. Likely made with his own angel blade from the looks of them. Rage boiled up in Dean once again, but he tamped it down, knowing it would do Cas no good.

But the poison…

Dean searched Cas' body, looking for signs of poison, and then finally stopped at his right arm, where there was an ugly puncture wound in the crook of his elbow that looked black instead of red, and had blackened veins tracing down to his hand and up his arm, disappearing over his shoulder and beginning to make their way across his chest.

"Dammit," he muttered, running a hand over his face.

"What's wrong?" Benny asked.

"He said they poisoned him," Dean said grimly, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "He um…I don't know what to do with this."

Benny came to crouch next to him, studying the wound in Cas' arm. Dean was trying to keep himself together, but he couldn't. He was about to spend a long night probably watching his best friend die a slow and agonizing death. He just wasn't sure he could handle that on top of everything else right now.

"Is there any way we can draw it out?" Dean asked him. "Some weird herbs or something, or…" and then he had a sudden epiphany, and turned to stare pointedly at the vampire.

Benny frowned. "What?"

"You," Dean said. "You can suck it out, can't you?"

Benny looked taken aback. "Well, sure, I guess I _can_ but I don't know what the hell that gunk is! It might poison me too!"

"You can do it for snakebites in a pinch, how different would this be?" Dean said and gripped Benny's shoulder. "Look. I know I have no right to ask another favor of you, but bottom line…I can't lose him. I can't live with failing him again."

Benny stared at him for a long moment and Dean finally looked down, swallowing hard. "I get it. It's too much. I'll…think of something else."

But Benny sighed and cursed, causing Dean to look up at him. "Alright, Dean. I'll try it. I guess you are gonna save my life, and you have no reason to, so I guess I can manage to save your angel. Besides." He shrugged. "I look after my brothers in arms too."

Dean sagged, not knowing how to say thank you to something like that, but Benny just smiled. "Wait until we see if this works." Then he brought his fangs out and took a hold of Cas' arm before sinking his teeth into the spot right over the wound.

Cas' whole body tensed, and he cried out. Dean hurried to hold him down and tried his best to calm him as Benny turned to spit out the poisoned blood, more black than red, before going back in to do the same again. Cas thrashed against Dean's grip, forcing him to put more pressure on his injured body than he wanted to, but he couldn't let Cas toss around or he might hurt himself more and make it harder for Benny to suck out the poison.

Benny repeated the motion several more times until Cas started to settle down, or simply weakened too much to fight, Dean wasn't sure. The vampire spat again. "Almost got it," he grunted, before taking one more long draft of Cas' blood, and spitting it out. Dean was relieved to see it was almost all red this time. It had actually worked. He couldn't believe it.

Benny went to wash his mouth out at the nearby stream and Dean turned to inspect Cas' arm.

The black veins were gone, though the wound had been mangled by Benny's ministrations, Dean didn't think Cas would mind since it had saved his life. And hopefully, if he rested for a while, his wounds would start to heal on their own.

"You were lucky this time, you dumbass," Dean muttered to him, shaking his head. "But don't you dare do anything stupid like that again."

Benny came back in with some wet cloths and Dean set about cleaning Cas' wounds, bandaging the worst ones, and passing over those that weren't so bad, hoping that Cas would be able to heal himself shortly. When he had finished, he spread Cas' coat over top of him, and then settled in against a rock for a long vigil. He looked over at Benny who was adding more wood to the fire.

"Thanks," he said simply, not knowing what else he could say.

The vampire smiled and gave a slight shrug. "Happy to be of service."

They settled in for a long night while Dean ran through his mind, trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say when Cas woke up to convince him that he should stop trying to sacrifice himself.

Yeah. That would be a fun, simple, conversation.

He couldn't wait to get out of here.

* * *

 _Sam didn't sleep that night,_ tossing in bed until Meg, who was siting up on the other bed listening to music and reading a magazine, cast him a look and slid a bottle of whisky toward him across the table between the beds.

"Seriously, do us both a favor," she said.

"You don't sleep, what do you care?" Sam grumbled, but took the bottle anyway, only hesitating a minute before taking a long draft.

"Doesn't mean I like to watch other people try and fail miserably," she said blandly. She sighed and put her magazine down. "Look, with any luck, we'll be in Purgatory within a few hours. Then we just have to find Cas and Dean, and drag their asses back here for a big happy family reunion. Then maybe we can keep this little team going until we gank Crowley."

Sam snorted, taking another drink before putting the bottle aside. "Really? You'd actually stick around even after this?"

"Maybe off and on," Meg said casually with a shrug, but Sam thought he heard something else in her voice. Something that might be akin to longing. "My army of one wasn't exactly effective."

Sam smiled slightly at that, and sat up against the headboard with a sigh. "Hey, um, I just want to thank you for helping me with this," he said awkwardly, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

Meg glanced over at him. "No offence, but I'm not really doing this for you, or your brother for that matter."

Sam shrugged. "I know. But Cas is our friend, our family really, and you care about him enough to work with me, so I'd say that's something."

Meg snorted slightly. "You do realize you call him family, yet you dumped him with a demon in a psych ward while all manner of creatures were out for his blood."

Sam's chest panged at the accusation, but he couldn't deny it either. He nodded, swallowing hard. "I know. Dean and I have both made some crappy decisions with Cas, with each other too. Family hurts each other sometimes, and that doesn't make it okay, but I know that between Dean and me, when we come back from stuff like that, we're always stronger for it because we know not to do it again. I hope we can do the same for Cas when we get him back too."

Meg studied him for a long moment, before she nodded slightly. "I think he's lucky to have you. Even if you and Dean can get really full of yourselves and act like assholes sometimes."

Sam gave a short chuckle. "Point taken."

They fell into silence and Sam lay back down, still trying and failing to sleep. Mainly trying not to think of how many things could go wrong once they got into Purgatory. Of the possibility that Dean and Cas had been killed by now and their searching would have been pointless in the end.

He must have dozed off into a fitful sleep at some point, because he woke to the sound of the room door opening. He sat up sharply, reaching for his gun, but saw it was just Meg coming into the room with coffee and a bakery bag, setting them down on the table by the door.

"Breakfast," she said.

Sam glanced at the clock, saw it was early morning, and swung out of bed. He ate, dressed, and they packed their bags, climbing into the Impala in record time as they made their way back to the spot they had met with the reaper the night before.

He was waiting there with his taxi again, looking slightly nervous. That sent up some red flags for Sam, and he frowned, but they didn't really have a choice but to accept his offer since they had no other way of getting into Purgatory on such short notice.

"Well?" Meg asked as they came face to face with the reaper.

He nodded, eyes glancing around them in a shifty way Sam didn't like. "Follow me."

He led them toward a back alley, which was covered in street artwork and graffiti and stopped at a dead end. Sam looked around incredulously.

"Is this it?" he asked.

"Hold on," the reaper said.

"Wait," Meg said suddenly. "How do we get back out once we go in?"

"I'll give you twenty-four hours," the reaper said. "I'll meet you then at the same spot I take you in and bring you back out."

Sam's eyes widened. "Twenty-four hours? How the hell are we going to track down two people and get back to point A in that amount of time? We don't even know where to look!"

"That's the deal, take it or not," the reaper said.

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but he felt Meg's hand wrap around his wrist.

"Sam," she said in warning and Sam turned to look behind them, and saw several men coming into the alley, looking like the meant business. He'd guessed what they were up against even before they showed their black eyes.

"Dammit," Sam muttered and spun around to the reaper who was looking pretty guilty at the moment. "Did you know about this? Set us up?"

"I'm sorry," the reaper said. "Crowley found out about the deal…I…I had to. He would have killed me."

Meg's angel blade was at his throat. "I'll kill you if you don't put us through right now," she snarled.

Sam glanced at the demons, drawing his knife, preparing for an attack. "Think about it," he told the reaper.

The reaper finally sagged. "Fine. Take my hands."

Sam clasped one of his hands, watching the demons approach faster as they realized they were about to lose their quarry.

It was then that Meg broke free, moving to stand in front of them.

"Meg, don't!" Sam called as everything started to blur around the edges.

Meg looked back and cast him a carefree smirk. "Go, Sam. I'll hold 'em off. Save your brother and…my unicorn."

The demons were on her before Sam could shout again and everything was swirling together as he was sucked through the rift, the world disappearing before his eyes, and turning to blackness.

* * *

 **Also, guys, check out the collab fic Aini NuFire and 29Pieces are working on "Into the Breath" (on 29's profile) it's an AU Hellatus fic set between S12 and S13 and delves into the alternate universe. Plus it's awesome so far and it will likely only be more awesome ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay guys, lets see what happens now that Sam has gotten to Purgatory!**

Chapter Six

Meg was thrown to the ground at the foot of the dais that held Crowley's throne. She looked up with hatred in her eyes, and a disdainful smile.

"Crowley," she spat.

"Whore." The King of Hell stood up from his throne and strode slowly down the steps to stand right in front of Meg. He stood there looking at her, and she met his gaze fearlessly for several long seconds before he backhanded her across the cheek.

Meg's head snapped to the side and she bit off a cry, knowing it was only going to get worse from here.

"No knight in dirty flannel to come rescue you this time," Crowley told her, reaching down and gripping a handful of her hair, raising her face to meet his gaze.

She smiled up at him. "I don't need a knight," she said firmly. "I have an angel."

Crowley smirked. "Then he can have what's left of you once I've finished—if he's not some monster's supper already," he said and released her, turning to his demons. "Take her out of here and get her ready."

They pulled Meg to her feet and Crowley stepped over, leaning close to her ear. "I'll see you soon, darling. We're going to have a fantastic time together, I'm sure."

Meg spit at him as she was dragged away. She would endure whatever Crowley had in store for her. Because Sam and gotten to Purgatory and he was going to find Dean and Cas and bring them back. And when they got back, Cas would find her.

She had faith in the treetopper.

* * *

 _Sam gasped as his surroundings solidified again_ , after the vortex of passing through the portal. He blinked, spinning around to see where he was.

It was a forest, huge trees reaching up to a dull grey sky, stretching on as far as he could see. Sam took several steps in one direction, and then hesitated. He had no idea where he was going. No idea where to start looking for Dean and Cas—where they had even come in themselves or how far they had gone. He began to realize just how ridiculous his plan had been.

But he would find them, that much he was sure of. He just hoped he could survive long enough to do so.

He chose a direction, praying it wasn't the wrong one, and started off through the trees.

He came across several corpses not too far into his journey. He crouched down to see a severed head and picked up a stick to pry one of the cold lips up, revealing fangs. Vampire. Sam straightened with a frown. Could that be Dean's work? It seemed almost too good to hope. But in any case, the corpses looked to be no more than a couple days old and it was a better lead than he could have hoped for so he continued in the same direction.

The main thing he noticed was that the forest was eerily quiet. No normal wildlife here. He had the continuous feeling of something watching him, and he didn't want to bet that there wasn't something doing just that, so he kept alert at all times, his knife and gun in his hands, already wishing he had brought more weaponry.

He traveled for hours, or at least, he figured it was. It was hard to tell because there wasn't a sun to tell the passing of time, going toward the west, he just started to notice that it was getting a little darker and then a little more dark, and things started to stir in among the trees and he had a bad feeling about the whole atmosphere. So when he found a tree that he could climb into and had a lot of good branches for resting on, he took the opportunity and ascended swiftly into some of the higher branches.

Sam wedged himself into a broad crook and, with his knife in one hand, and his gun in the other, he started his long first night in Purgatory.

* * *

 _Dean leaned back against the cave wall,_ sitting near Cas' head, and just waiting for him to wake up, give some sign that he was going to be okay. He'd checked the angel's injuries about an hour ago and they were half healed, so he took that progress as a good sign, but Cas still hadn't woken. Dean was also kind of afraid that when he did, he may try to just fly off again, no matter what Dean said, or how hard he tried to reason with him.

Benny was out scouting, getting his bearings after Cas had zapped them away from the Levis the night before. Dean hoped they were closer to the portal than before. He didn't know if he had the strength for several more days of this, let alone several more weeks. And he also wasn't figuring on the Levis letting them go so easily next time they caught up with them. Either way, he just wanted to get out of here, wanted to make sure Sam was alright and was taking care of Baby, wanted to sleep in a bed again, wanted a _burger…_

Dean groaned, running his hands over his face. Hell, he'd even go for just washing his hands with actual soap. He hadn't yet been able to scrub all the grime and monster blood off since he got here. He wasn't exactly a clean dude with the life he led, but seriously. A damn shower, even half-cold in a crappy motel room would be like heaven—better, he thought wryly. He was going to have to make sure he appreciated the little things more once they got back.

If they got back.

He was broken out of his musings as Cas shifted and let out a quiet moan. Dean was instantly on his knees, kneeling over Cas, a hand on his shoulder. "Cas? Hey buddy, you awake?"

The angel's eyes fluttered open after a few more seconds and Dean held his breath as he watched his friend gather himself.

"Dean?" Cas finally whispered, blinking blearily up at him.

Dean forced a small smile. "Yeah, it's me. You with me?"

Cas seemed to take stock of his body, one hand touched his opposite arm where the poison had been. He started to yank at the cloth Dean had tied around it with clumsy fingers before Dean finally sighed and pulled it off for him, figuring he needed to see for himself.

Cas frowned as the wound was revealed. Dean was glad to see it looked a lot better than it had last night. There were still some of Benny's fang marks but it was mostly healed, and didn't look mangled anymore. There also weren't any more black lines of Levi poison reaching out from it.

"But…how?" Cas asked, seeming genuinely confused.

"You've got Benny to thank for that," Dean told him, pointing to the arm. "We caught the poison in time and he was able to suck it out."

Cas looked somewhat surprised, but lowered his arm back down, and just rested for a moment. He still looked completely exhausted but a few seconds later he tried to sit up.

Dean sighed and helped prop him up against the cave wall, knowing the stubborn idiot wouldn't stop until he did, and watched as Cas closed his eyes briefly, taking several deep breaths. Dean sat against a rock, facing him, making sure the wounded angel wasn't just going to topple over.

Cas finally opened his eyes again and met Dean's. "Dean…I'm sorry. If I had known before that I was putting you in danger by being here, I would have left sooner."

"Cas, stop," Dean snapped then closed his eyes with a sigh, gathering his thoughts, before he continued. "Look, we are both warriors, we know the risks of that lifestyle. It's no different down here than it ever was on earth, it's just more…I don't know, _concentrated_. Concentrated fuglies after our hide." Dean shrugged. "But, man, you can't just run off like that. We need to stick together because we're stronger as a team."

"I didn't leave you alone, you still had Benny," Cas protested. "I would never have left you unprotected."

Anger flared up in Dean's chest. "This isn't about me being alone or _unprotected_ or not, Cas, this is about me caring that you could have died, okay?" he shouted, before casting a worried glance out the cave entrance, hoping he wouldn't attract any of those monsters. He ran a weary hand over his face, trying to phrase this right so Cas didn't misunderstand him. "Cas, I know that I haven't been a good friend these last couple years and I'm sorry, I truly am, but that doesn't mean I don't… _care_ about you any less than I ever did. You're still my brother, you idiot. How do you think I'd feel if Sam decided to pull what you did?"

Cas looked down at his hands folded in his lap. "You'd be angry," he said blandly.

"Damn right I would, but angry because I wouldn't want to lose him, because I love him. Just like you, you idiot."

Cas looked at him incredulously for a long moment, and Dean shifted under the scrutiny.

Finally Cas opened his mouth to speak, licking his dry lips as if to bide time. "Dean, I…I think of you and Sam as my family too. But I also view myself as your protector, I want to keep you safe at all costs."

"And you think I don't?" Dean demanded.

Cas leveled a firm look at him. "It's not the same, Dean."

"The hell it isn't," Dean growled. "Cas, this isn't about you being my 'guardian angel' or whatever, this is about you running from things that you need to turn around and face instead before they eat you alive. And I'm not talking about the Leviathans."

Cas ducked his head and Dean saw that he had hit the nail on the head. He swallowed hard before he continued.

"Look, man, whatever you think you owe me and Sam, whatever _penance_ you think you need to pay, I think you've suffered enough this past year to make up for it ten times over. The angels may have decided you're not good enough to be one of them anymore, but screw them. To me and Sam, you're still family, and we'll take you whether you're fallen, crazy or whatever it is this week. Just, please, do me a favor and stop trying to sacrifice yourself every time I turn around. We're both gonna get out of here if I have to drag your feathery ass out myself."

Cas finally looked at him again, his head cocked slightly to one side. "My ass is not actually feathery, you know."

Dean groaned in exasperation, but at the same time that comment was so much like old Cas he had to fight not to smile. "You know what I mean, idiot."

Cas was silent for a long moment before he sighed. "You know I've…been seeing things more clearly lately."

"I've noticed."

"But I suppose I still managed to miss a few of the more important things," Cas admitted.

Dean gave a small smile. "Maybe one or two." This was a step in the right direction and Dean was glad to finally, maybe, see some progress in Cas' psychological state. He hated it when the angel talked about all that penance, and being expendable crap. And yeah, while he knew he was probably—definitely—responsible for part of that, it also reminded him of how Cas' family had just thrown him out without a scrap of forgiveness, even though he was the best of all of them.

"I'd still die for you if it came to it, though," Cas told him firmly. "And I'm not going to apologize for that."

Dean shrugged. "Can't argue. As long as you don't get pissy if I ever have to do the same."

Cas heaved what sounded like an exasperated sigh, but one corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile. "I would be foolish to expect anything less from a Winchester."

Dean narrowed his eyes at him, but had to shake his head in acceptance. "Touché."

A step sounded outside the cave and Dean and Cas both snatched weapons up, though Dean moved faster and was already on his feet as the figure entered the cave. He let out a pent up breath as he saw it was Benny.

"Hey," the vampire said, before nodding to Cas, seeming relieved he was awake.

"So, what's the sit-rep?" Dean asked him.

Benny glanced over his shoulder. "We're not far from the portal, but there's something else going on out there. Ran into a vamp I used to know."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Benny smiled slightly. "Well, he's dead. But before I chopped off his head, he told me something odd. Said he thinks there's another mortal down here."

"Mortal, like another human?" Dean asked with a frown.

"Just a rumor," Benny shrugged. "But thought you might like to know."

"Dean," Cas said, levering himself to his feet, a bit stiffly, but at least he seemed able to stand. "What if Sam found a way in?"

Dean's stomach dropped to his feet. That was the thought he had been trying to avoid. "But that's impossible, right?" Dean demanded. "I mean, we only got here because we were next to Dick…"

Cas gave him a look. "Is anything impossible for a determined Winchester?" he asked blandly. "If there's a way out, there may be a way in."

"Like a backdoor," Dean said, and cursed, shaking his head. "Dammit, Sammy." He turned to Benny. "Your friend say where this human is?"

"Not far from here," Benny said. "If it is your brother, we should probably hurry. The residents have been getting frustrated at not being able to get a taste of you, and if they find him first…"

Dean grabbed his weapons and his coat, as Cas also shrugged into his trench coat and slid his angel blade into his sleeve.

"You can find him too, right?" Dean asked Benny.

The vampire shrugged. "If we get close enough, I should be able to smell him."

Dean nodded and turned to Cas. "You good?"

The angel nodded firmly. "Let's go find Sam."

* * *

 _Sam spent the night in the tree_ without incident and started out as soon as it began to get light. He hadn't gotten any sleep, having mostly been listening to the unknown creatures stirring and growling in the woods below, waiting with bated breath for one of them to be able to climb up to his hiding place. The more he thought about it the more afraid he was for Dean and Cas, especially since they hadn't even planned on coming here like he had. What if they had been blasted right into the middle of a pack of monsters?

But Sam had to hold out hope they were still alive and still trying to find a way out. Of course, now even if Sam was able to track them down within twenty-four hours, the reaper wouldn't be there to bring them back. He would likely be dead by now or off in an unknown corner of the world hiding from Crowley's wrath. Sam swallowed hard as he thought of Meg, holding off those demons. He was pretty sure they wouldn't have killed her, but it was little comfort considering he knew that the alternative would be Crowley torturing her. He wished he'd had a chance to promise that they would find her once he got Dean and Cas out.

That is if he didn't die first.

And that was looking like a pretty likely scenario, especially when Sam walked into a clearing and found several men standing there as if they had been waiting for him.

He pulled up short, raising his gun. "Get out of my way," he said firmly.

One of them laughed, striding toward him, and allowed his fangs to descend. A vampire then. The vamp took a deep inhale and grinned. "Ah, would you look at that, more fresh meat," he said.

"Maybe this one will be easier to take down," said another.

Sam watched the vamps approach him, but felt a swell of relief as well at their words. If there was 'another' human that wasn't easy to take down, Sam could only imagine that was Dean. Which likely meant he was still out there.

He still wished he'd brought a bigger knife though.

"I wouldn't count on that," he said, and suddenly took off, darting between the trees.

The vampires shouted and followed him as Sam crashed through the underbrush, leaping over logs and rocks and praying he didn't trip. Even without tripping, he knew he couldn't outrun vamps for long.

Turned out he was right.

He pulled up short as one darted in front of him, and he wasn't able to stop the momentum he had worked up to leap out of the way before the vamp tackled him to the ground. Sam rolled, managing to kick the vampire off of him, and swung his blade, stabbing his attacker in the thigh. The vamp howled, but by then, his companions had come, and they set on Sam from both sides.

Sam got a shot off at one, even though it would do little good, before he lost his grip on his gun. That was when he simply picked up a large stick and slammed it into the side of one of the vamp's heads.

"He's a feisty one too," one of the other vamps growled, before he launched himself at Sam, locking his hands around his throat and began squeezing.

Sam thrashed, stabbing at the vampire, who didn't seem to be bothered much, and just continued to choke him out. Black spots were starting to swim over his vision, and he bucked frantically to try and get the vamp to release its grip.

There was a shout that sounded as if from far away, and for some reason Sam thought it sounded familiar. A second later, the vampire was wrenched away from him and he curled onto his side, choking and trying to force air back into his lungs.

Once he finally managed to breathe again, he grabbed his gun and knife, scrambling to his feet to see who had rescued him.

He almost didn't believe his eyes when he saw his brother and best friend taking out the last of the vampires. Dean looked practically feral, as he swung a crazy stone-bladed weapon and took off the vamp's head in one blow, a snarl on his lips.

"Dean!" Sam cried and stumbled forward.

Dean didn't give him the chance. A grin broke out over his face as he rushed forward and swept Sam into a tight embrace. Sam heaved a sigh of relief as he squeezed his brother as tight as he could, ignoring the filth that covered him—and his…pungent odor—and just simply reveling in the fact he had Dean here, in his arms, and he was real and alive and Sam almost couldn't believe it.

Sam closed his eyes in relief, as Dean gripped the back of his head with one hand. "God, Sammy, it's good to see you," he whispered fiercely, voice wavering with emotion.

"You too," Sam managed to choke out, and then they finally pulled away. Sam smiled and strode two more steps toward Cas and pulling the angel into an embrace as well. Cas seemed slightly startled at first, but after a second he wrapped his arms around Sam and squeezed back.

"Sam, it's so good to see you again," Cas told him.

"You too, Cas," Sam grinned as he pulled back, looking between the angel and his brother before his eyes fell on the previously unnoticed third member of their party. He frowned.

"Dean," he said, half questioning, half cautious.

Dean nodded to the third man. "Sam, this is Benny. He's a vampire, but he's been helping us out down here."

Sam stared incredulously at Dean for a second. A vampire? He turned back to 'Benny' and saw him extend a hand.

"Heard a lot about you, Sam," he drawled.

Sam hesitated a second before he took his hand, but shook firmly. If Dean and Cas trusted him, then he supposed he could too.

"What the hell are you doing here, man?" Dean demanded then. "How'd you get in?"

Sam sighed tiredly. "Rogue reaper coyote…it's a long story. Problem is, I don't have a way out."

"We do," Dean said. "Benny knows a way out, and we're heading there now."

"No more than a day's travel from here," the vampire said.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. This seemed almost too good to be true. "Okay then, let's go."

As they started out, Sam and Dean fell back to talk. "So, how's Cas?" Sam asked quietly.

"Significantly less loopy than when you last saw him," Dean said.

Sam glanced at the angel's back. "So, he's…better?" he asked in relief.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. It's been a long ride."

Sam looked his brother up and down. Aside from being dirty, he didn't look to be in bad shape. "How are you?"

Dean shrugged. "Huh, you know. As well as can be expected vacationing in mosterland. The tourism bureau down here sucks."

Sam smirked slightly. "Well, I'm just glad you're not monster chow."

"I'm glad you're not Crowley's new favorite plaything," Dean told him. "What about Kevin? He okay?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we got him and his mom to safety. Garth's looking after them."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "'We'?"

"Meg and I," Sam offered. "We've uh, been working together."

Something passed over Dean's face and Sam stopped him before he could open his mouth, slightly angry that his brother would give him that reaction. "Dean, it's not like that. She's actually been a valuable asset. She wanted protection from Crowley and…she also wanted to help get Cas out."

Dean's face seemed to soften a bit and he glanced up to where the angel was walking with Benny. "Why isn't she here then?"

Sam swallowed hard. "When we were gonna pass through the portal, Crowley's demons caught us. She stayed behind to hold them off."

"Damn," Dean muttered, glancing at Cas' back again. "You think she's still alive?"

Sam gave him a look. "I don't think Crowley would kill her that quickly."

Dean cursed again, and Sam didn't know what else to say. He had no idea how they were going to go about finding Meg once they got back topside, but he knew they were going to somehow. After everything, he couldn't in good conscious leave her to Crowley's torments, especially if Cas was so fond of her.

They hurried to catch up with the others and it was a brisk hike the rest of the day until the sun went down and they were forced to find shelter for the night. Apparently Sam's rescue had taken some time out of their travel, but Benny assured them they would make it to the portal the next day.

Dean told Sam to sleep and that he would take first watch. From the way he said it, Sam knew he meant he would stay up all night. He agreed, though reluctantly, knowing Dean had to be even more exhausted than he was. But then, he knew his brother. Always so stubborn.

He was woken sometime in the middle of the night by a muffled cry and sat bolt upright, grabbing a weapon and looking for the source.

But all he saw was Dean leaning over Cas, shaking him awake and talking to him softly.

"Hey, it's okay, you're with us, you're safe," Dean was murmuring.

Cas was still gasping for breath, trying to struggle out from under his coat. He surged upright and bared an arm, clawing at the bend in his elbow with a terrified look on his face. Dean grabbed his wrists in a firm but gentle grip, stilling his movements.

"You're okay, Cas," he said. "It's over."

Sam narrowed his eyes, wondering if this was why Dean had been so adamant about keeping watch. He felt sick to his stomach as he wondered what they had gone through down here while he'd been trying to find a way to them. It was obviously bad enough to give Cas nightmares.

"Dean," Sam hissed.

Dean turned and held up a hand to tell him it was okay, and Sam reluctantly sank back to the ground, a pang in his chest. He didn't know angels could have nightmares.

"Sorry," Cas whispered in the darkness, folded in on himself, and still trembling. Sam wondered whether he should do something, but he didn't know what to say. Didn't even know what they'd gone through.

Dean shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Cas. Just go back to sleep." He reached out to rub the angel's back soothingly, and Cas sank to the ground, eyes already drooping. Sam had never seen him so exhausted before.

He watched Dean tuck the trench coat around Cas before settling back against a stone. Sam studied the heavy look on his brother's face for a few long seconds before he closed his eyes again, and tried to drift back to sleep. He would make sure to discuss this with Dean later.

They were up as soon as it started to get light and set off on the last stretch of their journey.

"So, Benny, how do you even know about this thing?" Sam asked the vampire.

"Hearsay," Benny replied. "But from reliable sources. Old things in here know a lot about a lot of things. Like the spell I learned to ride out of here with your brother."

Sam's eyebrows shot up, and he turned incredulously to Dean.

"Benny's coming with us," Dean said. "That was the deal for helping us find the portal."

"If the portal exists," Cas said suddenly.

Dean spun around to look at him. "What do you mean, if it exists?" he demanded.

Cas looked slightly apologetic. "Dean, I didn't want to mention it before, but…"

Everyone spun to a stop and watched the angel. Dean glared at him. "You got something to share with the class, Cas?"

The angel sighed, and looked away. "Dean, even if it does exist, it's a human portal. There's…there's no guarantee it will work for me."

Sam felt a pang in his chest, and saw an unidentifiable look pass over Dean's face.

"Cas, you're coming. We talked about this already," Dean snapped.

"I'm just saying," Cas replied wearily and reached out to place a hand on Dean's shoulder. "If it doesn't work, thank you. For everything."

Dean shook his head at him. "Save the Hallmark, Cas. It's gonna work. Nobody gets left behind." He pushed ahead to walk with Benny and Sam fell in beside Cas, seeing the tenseness in the angel's shoulders.

"You don't think it will work?" Sam asked him quietly.

Cas shrugged. "It's untested. And Purgatory has not been kind to me so far." Sam frowned, but as he really looked at Cas, he saw the angel was pale and gaunt, and there were horribly dark circles under his eyes. He did look terrible, like the weight of the world—or in this case, Purgatory—was on his shoulders.

He reached out and squeezed Cas' shoulder comfortingly. "Cas, we're not leaving without you. You have a human vessel, right? That must count for something. I'm sure it will work fine."

Cas looked away and didn't say anything. Sam pressed his lips together worriedly, but kept on following Dean and Benny.

They walked for a bit longer before they came out into a clear, rocky area, with a small cliff-face to the right of them. Benny had stopped, looking around.

"Said it was supposed to be here," he said, a bit of desperation hinted in his voice.

"Dammit, Benny," Dean grunted.

Sam was about to demand what was going on, when he was distracted by a leaf floating up from the ground and hovering in a weird way, past his face even though there was no wind to speak of.

"Guys," he said as he watched the progress of the leaf and looked up to see something up on the top of the rock face.

"What is that?" Dean asked, squinting.

Sam caught his breath and watched as the anomaly that had started as a pinprick, started to grow into a glowing rift.

"There, that must be it!" Sam said, pointed excitedly, relief washing through him.

"It's reacting to you two," Benny told them. "Only activates when humans are near."

"Okay then," Dean said and then turned to the vampire, pulling a knife from his belt. "Just like we talked about."

Sam watched as Dean made a cut in his arm and then Benny did the same before they clasped forearms, pressing the cuts together.

"Thanks, Benny," Dean told him.

"See you on the other side, brother," the vampire replied.

Dean chanted some Latin, and their wounds started to glow. Benny's form began to dissolve into mist that gathered through the cut underneath Dean's skin. Dean winced, grunting in pain, as a glowing bubble formed under his skin.

"Dean, you good?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded and pulled his sleeve back down. "Yeah, let's go."

They hurried up the rock face, beating back underbrush. Sam could feel the pull of the portal the closer they got. They were almost there.

"Dean, Sam!" Cas suddenly cried.

Before either of them could ask what was the matter, something slammed into the ground nearby.

"What the hell?" Sam cried.

It was two piles of black goo that formed into humans. Sam realized what they were even before Cas yelled, "Leviathans!"

"Dammit!" Dean shouted, pulling out his stone weapon.

"Dean, Sam, just go," Cas suddenly said.

"What? No way!" Sam yelled.

"Go, please!" Cas pleaded as the Levis started to come toward them, cruel smiles on their faces.

"Hell no, we get out together!" Dean insisted, reaching out and grabbing Cas' sleeve. "Now come on!"

"Dean!" Sam warned as a Levi rushed them. Dean leapt forward to meet it, swinging his weapon, but the Levi simply ducked under it and slammed Dean in the ribs, sending him tumbling back down the incline. Sam grabbed the weapon he had dropped and went to aid Cas, who had rushed to fight the Levis but was being pummeled mercilessly.

Sam growled, slamming the blade into one of the Levis' backs just as they had thrown Cas to the ground. The Levi spun around angrily and went all bigmouth.

"Sam!" Dean appeared and grabbed the back of the Levi's head. Sam didn't hesitate and swung at its neck, chopping its head off. Dean kicked the severed head down the cliff. That would buy them a few minutes anyway.

"Cas!" Dean cried and Sam saw the other Levi had the angel by the throat, shaking him like a ragdoll. Sam tossed Dean the weapon and his brother wasted no time in taking that Levi's head off too.

Cas slumped to the ground, gasping for breath and Dean hauled him to his feet.

"Come on!" he had to shout now, over the roar of the portal. Sam could barely stand upright this close. He could feel it pulling them in.

"Dean," Cas croaked, stumbling and falling on his knees, almost bringing Dean down with him. He looked over his shoulder and Sam saw more Levis materializing down the path. He hurried over and reached down with Dean, each of them grabbing one of Cas' arms.

"You're coming, Cas," Sam yelled.

"Yeah, you've gotta save your girlfriend from Crowley!" Dean told him. "He has Meg!"

Cas looked up at him in shock, and it was enough for the Winchesters to pull him to his feet.

They got to the portal just as the other Levis showed up, and the roar in Sam's ears was so deafening, he couldn't tell if he was shouting or not. He looked at Dean as they stepped into the portal and heaved Cas with them. One more step back and they were caught up in a whirling vortex that sucked them away from the Leviathans and Purgatory forever.


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, they got out of Purgatory, but as you can probably guess, that's not exactly the end of their problems here.**

 **Thanks again to everyone who has been following this story so far! I'm glad you're all enjoying this AU ^_^**

Chapter Seven

The first thing Dean became aware of was the sudden silence, almost just as deafening as the previous roar, and then something firm beneath him. It took him a moment to realize he was holding his breath, and his lungs were screaming, and when he finally drew in a deep breath, he began choking on the dirt and leaves under his face. He rolled onto his back, coughing, and gulping in air.

He found himself looking up at the tops of trees in a night sky and his heart lurched for a moment, thinking he was still in Purgatory, but then he saw stars peeking through the branches, and heard crickets and the sounds of other _normal_ night creatures and he heaved a sigh of relief, laughing almost hysterically.

He pulled himself into a sitting position, and looked to his left, seeing two more shapes lying there. He climbed to his knees and shook them.

"Sam, Cas," he called.

Sam surged up much the same way Dean had, gasping for breath and looking around frantically.

"We're back," Dean told him, gripping his shoulder.

Sam gave a relieved grin, and then they both turned to Cas who was lying between them, not having stirred yet.

"Cas?" Dean asked, shaking his shoulder roughly. The angel didn't stir.

"Is he alright?" Sam asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning on a flashlight app.

Dean rolled Cas onto his back and checked to see if he were breathing. He was. He sat back on his heels with a sigh. "He was like this when we zapped into Purgatory too. I was hoping he would be fine on the way out, but it looks like we're gonna have to haul him to…wherever we can get out of these woods."

Sam looked around. "I don't even know where we are."

Dean could feel Benny's essence beneath the skin of his arm, a constant burning pain, and knew he needed to get to the vampire's grave and resurrect his friend as soon as possible. He grunted as he got to his feet. "Alright, take his legs."

They were lucky. Only a few minutes of hiking after hauling Cas up between them, they came upon a cabin with a jeep parked out front. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, and he and Sam heaved Cas into the back of it and then climbed in the front. Dean even found a key in one of those hide-a-key boxes under the dash. For once they were having some good luck.

They didn't look back to see if anyone in the cabin had woken up when they started it or not, but they made it down a ranger road to the main highway without trouble, and Sam spotted the trail sign on the way out.

"Hundred Mile Wilderness," he said. "That's in Maine, right?"

Dean cursed. It was gonna take him a hell of a long time to get down to Louisiana to resurrect Benny from here. "Sam, where did you leave my car?"

"Uh, not here," he said.

Dean shook his head. "Alright, well, first thing's first. We're gonna find the nearest motel and get cleaned up and get some food, because now that I'm topside, I am _starving._ " His stomach was like an empty pit that was threatening to eat itself. He needed a burger, like _now_. "Then you can stay with Cas and let him sleep this off while I go deal with Benny."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean told him, looking over at his brother. "You should help him track down Meg. Then we can go grab her as soon as I get back."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You're actually on board with this?"

Dean gripped the wheel tighter, casting a glance back at the unconscious angel. "She helped you, right? And she looked after Cas. Even though I'm not her biggest fan, she hasn't screwed us over, and I think I can manage to deal with her if I have to. Besides. I think Cas would be pretty upset if anything happened to her."

He couldn't forget how Meg was usually the first one Cas called for when he had nightmares. That meant something.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, also looking back at Cas. "And I think Meg's pretty fond of him too."

Dean shook his head. "Leave it to Cas to pick a demon."

Sam smirked. "Yeah, but, in a way, I guess it just kind of goes along with the rest of our crazy lives."

Dean had to chuckle at that. Wasn't that the truth?

They found a motel, and Dean helped Sam drag Cas inside and lay him on one of the beds before Sam offered to run for food and supplies since he wasn't quite so gross as Dean.

Dean was perfectly happy taking advantage of his absence to use the shower for as long as he wanted. He peeled off his clothes, knowing he was going to have to burn them—especially the underwear—and stepped into the warm stream of water. He was right; it was one of the best things he'd ever felt before.

It took him until Sam got back to scrub all the accumulated grime from his skin and hair. He startled when Sam knocked on the door.

"Hey, food's here! And I'm gonna put some clean clothes on the sink for you!"

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said gratefully. He turned off the shower after a couple more minutes and grabbed a clean, white towel to dry off with before he hurriedly threw on the clothes Sam had bought him. Just wearing clean clothes again made everything instantly better, but as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom and caught the smell of greasy fast food…

"Oh my god," he groaned as he made a beeline for the table and almost shoved Sam out of the way as he attacked the bag and just barely unwrapped the hamburger before he was shoving it in his mouth. Sam stood back and watched him with something crossed between amusement and disgust.

"Don't choke," he cautioned as he carefully retrieved his own food and sat on the other side of the table as if he were afraid Dean would steal it.

"Dude, it's been weeks," Dean told him as he gazed lovingly at his burger. "You are beautiful," he whispered to it before he took another huge bite.

He caught Sam's longsuffering look but didn't care. He finished his food, his stomach finally not feeling like it was going to eat itself, and then stood.

"You're leaving now?" Sam asked, getting up from the table too. "You don't want a few hours of sleep?"

Dean cast a glance toward the empty bed longingly, but shook his head. "Nah. If I get in that thing I won't get back out of it." He was becoming increasingly aware of Benny beneath the skin of his arm, and he rubbed at the spot. "Besides, I have a debt to repay."

Sam nodded, and Dean gave him a swift, firm hug. "I'll be back before long. Keep an eye on him." He nodded to Cas.

"Don't worry, I will," Sam replied, and gave Dean the address of where he had left the Impala. Dean grabbed his bag and the keys from the stolen jeep that he would be changing out soon, and headed out into the human world again, breathing a deep breath of civilization.

Yeah, he was glad to be back.

* * *

 _Castiel came to slowly_. He felt like he'd tried to fly through a hurricane, or possibly been buried in an avalanche—maybe both. His whole body ached dully in any case, even though he seemed to at least be lying on something soft.

He could hear a familiar clicking sound somewhere nearby, and there was also a pleasant, warm aroma that was also familiar, wafting over a more musty smell. His hands searched around him, fingers curling in something that felt like fabric. He frowned.

Finally he managed to exert enough strength to open his eyes and he found himself blinking up at something that was not trees, or sky, or rock, but manmade. He slowly looked around, craning his head up and groaning as even that movement made every muscle in his body protest.

The clicking sound stopped suddenly and a chair was pushed back, followed by footsteps.

"Cas?"

Castiel looked up to see Sam hovering over him, a slightly anxious look on his face.

Castiel cleared his throat, his mouth dry. "Sam?"

The younger Winchester grinned in relief. "Yeah, how are you feeling?"

He helped prop Castiel up against the headboard of the bed, and went to get him a glass of water. Castiel took it gratefully and gulped half of it before he had to take a breath and then finished the rest. He was surprisingly parched.

He glanced around the room, seeing no sign of the elder Winchester. "Where's Dean?" he asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, he's okay," Sam assured him. "He's gone to resurrect Benny or whatever. He'll be back in a couple days."

Castiel felt some tension ease out of him as he heard both the brothers were all right. Alive, and out of Purgatory. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"A little over twenty-four hours now," Sam told him. "I guess getting out of Purgatory knocked you cold."

"I guess so," Castiel said. He did feel a little fuzzy, couldn't remember much of the way out, but he also felt lighter than he had in a long time. His grace, though rather beaten down at the moment, wasn't being constricted, and his wings were able to stretch without the mire of Purgatory clinging to them.

"Would you like anything to eat?" Sam offered. "I just made a fresh pot of coffee."

Castiel had to admit that coffee sounded good. Maybe even something to eat. He was feeling rather mortal right now, and thought it couldn't hurt.

"I may like something," he said, and made to get off the bed.

But when he did, he realized for the first time that he was still wearing his filthy clothes. His trench coat was covered in mud and monster blood and everything else possible. And the white scrubs he had been wearing since the hospital were now unrecognizable as white anymore. He didn't have the energy to simply repair them, and sighed, looking balefully at Sam.

"Perhaps I should wash up first."

Sam grinned sympathetically. "Yeah, that would probably make you feel a lot better. Oh, and I bought you some new clothes."

Castiel was unable to help casting a protective glance down at his coat, clutching it around him subconsciously.

"Don't worry," Sam offered. "We can clean the coat. But you can't go around looking like an escaped mental patient."

"Ah, yes, that would probably be a bad thing," Castiel admitted with a small smile as he shrugged out of the coat and draped it gingerly over the back of one of the chairs as Sam grabbed a shopping bag from off the floor and handed it to him. "Thank you, Sam."

"No problem," Sam assured him. "When you're done, you can either eat what we have here, or there's a diner across the street if you don't want something from the microwave."

Castiel nodded, touched at the attention Sam was paying him, and went to take a shower. He did feel much better after getting clean, though he noticed that he still had some fading bruises, and some of the worse injuries he had gotten from the Leviathans hadn't quite healed yet, leaving scabs and pink scars in his flesh. He shivered slightly as he traced his fingers over the spot on the inside of his arm where the Leviathans had stabbed him with a blade coated in their own blood. The only memento now was the faint marks from Benny's fangs, but he would not forget the feeling of the poisonous ichor burning through him, the sureness that he would die. He shook himself and finished washing.

He also knew he was very low on power. It felt like he'd had to practically rip his grace free clawing his way out of Purgatory. He wondered how long it would take him to get back to full power, if he even would ever be again.

He toweled off and dressed in the new clothes Sam had bought him; a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a blue button-down. The new clothes felt a little odd, but they were clean and he was glad to have them.

Sam had a cup of coffee waiting for him when he came back out and he took it gratefully as he slumped down at the table, cupping the mug in his hands and reveling in the warmth.

"It's good to be back," he muttered, and surprised himself because he truly meant it. Even though he'd been resigned to staying in Purgatory forever if it meant repaying all the wrongs he had done.

Sam gave him a kind smile over his laptop. "I told you you would be able to get through the portal," he said, then furrowed his brow as he glanced over Cas' face, probably seeing the bruises and cuts there, now no longer covered by filth. "How do you feel, anyway?"

Cas shrugged, feeling his wings twinge as he did. "Tired, sore, my grace is…going to need some time to fully recharge. I think the way out, while I did get through, was a bit rougher than anticipated."

"But you think you'll recover?" Sam asked.

Castiel shrugged again but nodded. "I will in time."

Sam smiled. "It's good to have you back, man."

Castiel offered a smile back. "Its…good to be back. Purgatory was not exactly a friendly place to angels."

"No, of course, but, I actually meant more…you know," Sam shrugged awkwardly.

Castiel cocked his head but thought he understood where the young hunter was coming from. "Oh, you mean that I'm not crazy anymore?"

Sam winced a bit, but nodded with a sheepish smile. "Well, yeah, to be blunt. I'm just glad to see that you're doing better."

Castiel looked down into his mug of coffee. "Down in Purgatory…I think I finally realized that it would do no good, and probably more harm in the long run, to keep hiding from things that I should face instead. What I did to Dean, what I did to you, especially, I thought if I could hide behind the scars I took from you, pretend they were my own, I could make up for what I did, and for a while it was easier, but I couldn't do that and keep Dean safe in Purgatory, so I had to face myself again." He looked up at the younger Winchester. "That can sometimes be the hardest thing, can't it?"

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it can." He was silent a moment, and then closed his laptop and leaned over the table, an earnest look on his face. "Cas, I never really thanked you for fixing me, but I _am_ incredibly grateful, you understand that?"

Castiel felt a dull ache in his chest as he looked his friend in the eyes. "Sam, it was my fault to begin with. You shouldn't have to be grateful. I never should have hurt you like that in the first place."

"Cas, man, we've all done crap like that," Sam said with a shrug. "And I know you were desperate at the time, and I don't think you were fully yourself—I've been there, I know what that's like. I know you were just trying to do what you thought was right and that can make us do some really stupid things. I, of _all_ people, should know."

Castiel gave a shuddering sigh, closing his eyes as images of the desolation he had caused in heaven fluttered past his eyelids again. "But I did so much wrong, Sam. To you and Dean, who are my family. To the angels…I killed so many of my brothers and sisters. I can never forgive myself for that."

"And I let Lucifer out," Sam countered. "Cas, all of us have done really bad things when we've thought we were doing right. But I think in the long run, the mark of being a good person is to recognize what you did wrong and to do better. And I'm not saying any of us will not make mistakes again, because we will; that's part of being human. You just have to get used to that, and learn how to fix them."

Being human. Castiel smiled wryly. "I suppose you're right."

Sam surprised him then by reaching across the table and gripping his wrist firmly with a comforting squeeze. "And for the record, Cas. I forgive you. You're one of the best friends I've ever had. And I'm glad you're okay."

Castiel felt warmth fill his chest and something prick behind his eyes. He gave Sam a genuine smile, seeing the sincerity in the young man's eyes. "I'm not sure I deserve it, but, thank you, Sam."

"You do," Sam told him firmly. "And thank you for making sure Dean got out of there alive."

Castiel shrugged. "Well, he saved me a couple times too. I think we're even."

Sam smiled and Castiel drank the warm coffee, feeling it add to the growing warmth inside of him. Not for the first time, he thought about how blessed he was to have these two humans in his life who were willing to take a broken, fallen angel in and call him their brother.

But something else was niggling at the back of his brain, something not right. Dean had said something before they left Purgatory…Something about…

"Sam," he said suddenly and Sam looked up, startled, as if he expected an attack.

"What is it, Cas?"

"Meg…" Castiel replied, worry beginning to gnaw in his stomach. "Where is she?"

Sam's face fell then. "Do you remember what Dean said before we left Purgatory?"

Castiel wracked his brains, knowing there had been _something_ but shook his head. "I don't remember much."

Sam swallowed hard. "Well, Meg helped me figure out how to get there. She would have come with me, but when we were about to go through, Crowley's men attacked us and she stayed to hold them off."

Castiel's heart clenched, almost surprised at the amount of pain and grief he felt at the news. He had thought of seeing Meg again when he got out of Purgatory, thanking her for everything she had done for him. Talking to her, now that he was no longer insane…Meg had always had a lot in common with him, which is probably why they had gotten along so well together. He had liked to think that they could have had a real friendship.

"Is she…?" he hesitated, not sure he wanted to know right now.

Sam gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm not sure. But…I don't think Crowley would kill her so quickly."

Castiel shuddered at the thought of Meg being tortured by the sadistic demon. "If she's still alive, I have to go find her," he said firmly.

"I know," Sam agreed, and opened his laptop again. "I was actually working on figuring out where Crowley's new hideout is while you were sleeping."

Castiel stretched his wings again and found, regrettably, that they were not at all ready for any prolonged flight. "I won't be able to go search for her quickly," he said, feeling defeated.

"It's okay, Cas, we'll still find her. Now…when you were, um, working with Crowley, did he have any places he would go, or places he might take prisoners?"

Castiel brushed off the unwelcome memory of working with the demon, and thought about it. "Well, there was the old prison we all went to where he kept the monsters he was torturing. But he wouldn't go back there after you found it. There were several other places…"

He and Sam started working together, making a map of Crowley's favorite locations and hideouts and checking them against demonic omens in the areas.

It was a lot of work, but they eventually were able to track a consistent slurry of demonic omens coming out of Indiana where Castiel had been sure he'd overheard some of Crowley's men saying he had another hideout where he kept his 'special' prisoners. Castiel was sure this was where he was keeping Meg. Unfortunately, he wouldn't know how best to plan the attack until they saw the place.

"Don't worry, we'll figure all that out when we get there," Sam assured him.

When they took a short break to eat some canned soup Sam had heated up, they got a call from Dean saying he was on his way back from Louisiana.

"Oh, and, Dean," Sam added before they ended the call. "Cas and I think we've found out where Crowley is keeping Meg. Why don't you make your way to Indiana and we'll meet you there?"

"Sure thing," Dean said and ended the call.

Sam stood from the table. "I'm gonna go get us a car."


	8. Chapter 8

**How about a little fluff to start off your week? There may actually be some of that in this chapter :P**

 **A/N: Some dialogue taken from "Goodbye Stranger"**

Chapter Eight

The next day, they were getting a motel room in Indiana, in the nearest town to Crowley's hideout, while they waited for Dean to get there. Sam had found the place they were looking for, though, on a few local websites. Apparently it had been an old asylum. Just the kind of place Crowley liked to use as his hideouts.

Castiel waited impatiently for Dean to get there, thinking of every passing minute where Meg was just suffering more by Crowley's hand, but he also knew that he was not at the capacity to go in single-handedly and take out however many demons Crowley would have around him—not to mention Crowley himself if it came to that. He would need backup.

Instead, he set about cleaning his trench coat while he waited, managing to scrub off almost all the dirt and blood. There were just a couple places where it was more stubborn, but he could easily fix that when he was back at full power. Right now, though, he wanted to conserve all he could for the rescue mission.

Eventually, the familiar rumble of the Impala could be heard outside and Castiel and Sam both looked up, relieved. Sam got up to open the door for Dean and the elder Winchester came into the room, grinning when he saw Cas.

"Hey, man, good to see you on two feet."

Cas smiled. "Well, I'm not completely back to full power yet, but I am conscious so I suppose that has to count for something."

"So, what's the plan for rescuing your demonic girlfriend?"

Castiel gave Dean a rather longsuffering look, but crossed to the table to point at some maps he and Sam had printed out. "This is where we believe Crowley is keeping her. As for getting in, well, we decided that the best option is just to… go for it."

Dean raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Okay then. That works for me. Brute force and firepower is my favorite way to go. And we've just had the best training possible for the last few weeks."

Castiel had to smile. "I suppose no one can accuse us of being rusty."

"No way," Dean agreed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Now come on. Let's do this."

Castiel grabbed his angel blade and pulled on his trench coat.

* * *

 _The asylum was an intimidating place_ , lowering and old. Castiel thought he could almost feel the troubled and anguished souls that had once been interred there. But they were not there on a ghost hunt that day, even though there may well have been many restless spirits there. It had been a tactical choice on Crowley's part for a hideout. Castiel stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam and Dean as they considered their options.

"Well," Dean said, twirling his own angel blade in one hand. "I guess there's two options. We either go in the front or the back."

Castiel thought a moment then simply strode forward. "Crowley wouldn't expect us to be stupid enough to go in the front."

Sam and Dean shared a look, shrugged, and followed him. Castiel marched up the steps toward the door, and simply kicked it in.

There was nothing. No one waiting for them. No guards or anything.

The three of them shared a look. Castiel had a pit in his stomach, wondering if they had been wrong after all, when he caught the distant sound of running feet.

"Sam, Dean," he warned.

"Incoming," Dean muttered, as they formed a circle, back to back. When the demons rounded the corner, they were met by their deaths at the hands of the Winchesters and the avenging angel.

Once the demons were dead, Castiel closed his eyes and focused his senses, listening for more life further in the building.

"This way," he said and led the way deeper into Crowley's hideout.

* * *

 _Meg was unable to help a cry_ as Crowley artistically carved a furrow over her collarbone with the angel blade he had taken from her.

"Is that all you've got?" she taunted, though the waver in her voice sort of ruined the defiant moment.

Crowley smiled sweetly at her before he grabbed a fistful of her hair, making her wince, as he pressed his face close to hers. "Oh, don't worry, love, this is just a little foreplay. I have so many more fun things to do with you. Just let me know what you like best. I will be more than happy to oblige."

"Okay then," Meg snarled. "Why don't you take that knife and shove it up your ass?"

Crowley smirked and then slapped her hard across the face before he sliced the blade across her stomach and hip. Meg cried out, her breath shuddering in her lungs as she wondered just how much more of this she was going to be able to take before she broke. The only thing stopping her was her need to show Crowley she was better than that. And also because she still believed Castiel would come for her. She couldn't give up that hope. Not yet.

Crowley turned back to his cart of torture implements, deciding what to choose next when there were sounds of commotion somewhere in the building. Meg's ears pricked up despite herself, her breath catching in her throat. Crowley sighed and turned to one of his demon lackeys who was standing in the corner of the room.

"Go see what all that racket is about and tell them to keep it down! Don't they know I'm busy with a session?!"

"Sorry, your majesty, I'll go check on it right away," the demon said and strode toward the door.

Crowley turned back to Meg and by that time she was grinning, laughing breathlessly. He strode back to her rack, furious, and grabbed her around the throat.

"What's so funny, you scrap of filth?"

Meg met his eyes and smiled at him. "My unicorn."

There was a scream and the door slammed open, the demon Crowley had just sent away sprawling on the floor with his eyes burned out. Meg looked up to see the trench coat and the glowing halo of her savior.

* * *

 _None of the demons had any real chance_ against the three of them. The ones Castiel and the Winchesters couldn't take out with angel blades, Castiel himself smote. Each smiting drained him, his power still down, but he kept going anyway, not about to stop for any reason, even if he had to pay for it later.

As they found themselves getting deeper into the asylum, they came to a room with a closed door. Castiel was sure he could feel Meg on the other side. He nodded to Sam and Dean and they got ready to break through. One demon came out, startled to see them, and Castiel simply pressed a hand to his forehead, smiting him before kicking him back through the door. He felt a bit light-headed from the smiting, but he didn't have time to worry about that, only forcing a deep breath into his lungs to combat the dizziness.

Castiel looked up and came face-to-face with Crowley. The demon was standing in a bloody apron next to a rack, which held Meg. Castiel's heart rose in his throat at the sight of her, and the terrible state she seemed to be in, but somehow she was still smiling. At him.

Sam and Dean hurried in to stand at Castiel's back, their blades ready.

Crowley glared at the three of them. "Moose, I see you got Squirrel and the choir boy back," he grunted, before turning his attention fully to Castiel. "And you, Castiel, you look well. Not barmy anymore, I see. Good. Now I don't have to feel so bad about killing your girlfriend. Especially since you're not needed to stop Dick Roman anymore."

"Touch her one more time and I will smite you," Castiel said, and started to force the grace he had left to manifest, his eyes glowing blue.

Crowley, however, just smirked. "Oh, one more time, you said? You mean like this?" He deliberately held up a hand and stroked the side of Meg's face, causing her to cringe in disgust.

Castiel felt rage surge through him, powering his grace so that he glowed, his wings making huge shadows over the walls. He took one step toward the King of Hell and Crowley seemed to think twice, finally.

"Ah, that would be my cue," the demon said and snapped his fingers, disappearing instantly.

Castiel powered down, feeling worn out, but they had finished slaying demons for now so he would be all right. He finally turned his full attention to Meg who was smiling at him.

"Aren't you a little short for a storm trooper?" she asked blandly, quirking an eyebrow.

"Meg," Castiel went over to the rack she was chained to, and softly touched his fingers to her cheek where there was a large bruise and crusted blood from various abrasions. He could feel the pain emanating from her body, but didn't have the ability to heal demons. "What did he do to you?" he asked helplessly.

"Don't look like that, I've had worse," she said softly.

Dean handed Castiel the which he'd found on the tray and the angel started to unlock Meg's manacles, anger flaring up again as he saw the raw flesh underneath of them. Meg's eyes lingered on him for a long second before she glanced toward the Winchesters.

"I gotta hand it to you, Sam. You did bring them back without dying, and in record time too," she said.

Sam offered a small smile. "I'm sorry it took us as long as it did. But I'm glad to see you still alive."

"Stow it, this sentimental crap is almost worse than Crowley's knife." She gasped slightly as Castiel finished extricating her and she started to slide off the slightly tilted rack, but he caught her before she could fall and simply picked her up in his arms.

Meg made a surprised, yet pleased, sound as she gripped his coat with one hand. "There's my knight in shining armor," she said with a small smile.

Castiel couldn't help but smile back at her, grateful that she was actually in his arms, and alive. "Let's get out of here."

"What about Crowley?" Sam asked, looking around as if the demon might pop up out of nowhere.

"He's not stupid enough to come back now," Dean assured him. "We can kill him another day."

"But we should still get out of here in case he decides we're worth the trouble," Meg commented.

No one argued. Castiel carried her out behind the Winchesters and they all piled into the Impala. Castiel placed Meg gently into the backseat before he got in beside her and Dean started the engine and drove off back for their motel.

The drive was almost awkwardly silent. Castiel didn't know what to say but he couldn't take his eyes off Meg either, guilt over what Crowley had done to her eating at him as he took in all the injuries she had sustained. Of course, it hadn't directly been his fault she had been captured, but he had been part of the reason Crowley had taken her, so he still felt somewhat responsible.

Meg mostly stared at him too, a small smile on her lips that he couldn't quite read. Finally, she simply reached out and settled a hand over one of his that he had left resting on the seat between them and Castiel carefully curled his fingers around hers, his thumb smoothing over a bruise on the back of her hand.

Once they parked back at the motel, it took Castiel several seconds to realize Dean was calling him, and he looked up to see the elder Winchester leaning over the seat and rolling his eyes, muttering something to Sam about 'sexual tension'. Castiel blinked. "Yes, Dean?"

"I said I'm gonna get Meg a room," the hunter repeated.

"Oh, yes, thank you," Castiel replied and turned back to Meg who had slumped against the window partway through the drive. He squeezed the hand he was still holding and she started, looking up at him.

"Hey, Clarence," she said with a smile.

"Hey," he replied softly. "We're at the motel. Dean's getting you a room."

She nodded and shifted to sit up, but winced. Castiel carefully gripped her shoulders to steady her. "Hold on."

He got out of the car and went around to Meg's side so he could more easily get her out. By the time he had maneuvered her into his arms again, Dean was back with a key and showed Castiel to the second room where he gently deposited Meg down on the bed.

"I'll be back soon. I'm going to get some first aid things," he promised her.

"Come on, Cas, I'll lend you our kit," Dean told him, nodding toward the door.

Castiel followed him out to the Impala where Sam was already sorting through the trunk. He turned to Cas as he and Dean came up, a duffle bag in one hand.

"Here, this is Meg's stuff. She probably wants a change of clothes," Sam told him.

Castiel took the bag gratefully, not even having thought about that.

"And the first aid kit," Dean told him, handing him another duffle bag. "Think you'll need any help?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, but thank you. And thank you for helping me rescue Meg as well. I appreciate it."

Dean grinned. "Hey, you know us. Any chance to gank demons."

Castiel smiled slightly, before looking back toward Meg's room. "I have to see to Meg's wounds now. I will stay with her tonight."

Dean's eyebrows rose at that, though there was some amusement in his eyes that Castiel couldn't quite interpret. "Oh, yeah, of course," he said as Sam rolled his eyes. "Um, you have protection, right?"

"Dean," Sam hissed, elbowing his brother in the ribs.

Castiel narrowed his brows, wondering why Dean was being odd all of a sudden and thought he was probably missing some inside joke. "Of course. I have my angel blade, Dean."

Sam looked like he was trying not to laugh as Dean just made a choking sound before he smiled. "Okay, sure, Cas. Just…let us know if you need anything."

"I will, thank you," Castiel said and turned back toward the room.

* * *

 _Meg took a moment to reorient herself_ while Castiel and Dean went to get the first aid things. Her whole body was aching, and even though she knew she would recover in a few days, she was still kind of shaken. Mainly though, she was grateful that Castiel had gotten out of Purgatory—alive no less—and come to rescue her. She had to admit, she'd been kind of skeptical as to whether he would get there in time, but he had. Just one more miracle that angel had surprised her with.

The first of which had been making her fall for him.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, before she looked down at herself. Her clothes were torn and ruined, covered in her own blood, and her shirt was sticking uncomfortably to her wounds. She started to try and maneuver it over her head, just as Castiel opened the door again.

"Oh, sorry," he said as she looked up, her shirt half over her head, and one of her arms stuck. A gasp caught in her throat as a deep wound in her side pulled at the movement.

"I could use a little help," she told him.

Castiel stood there for a second, his mouth slightly open, and then surged forward, dropping the two duffle bags he had been carrying onto the end of the bed before he gingerly helped her extricate herself from the shirt, seeming to take special care not to touch her skin. She almost laughed, but didn't want to embarrass the poor guy even more.

"Thanks," she said.

Cas nodded and cleared his throat, his eyes focusing beyond her shoulder. She fought a smirk—it wasn't like she was naked. "Um, Sam gave me your bag. I thought you might like to have some clean clothes."

She nodded. "If you can help me clean up, first, that would be great."

Cas nodded, still not looking at her, and she was unable to help laughing this time. "I'm not shy, Castiel. You're going to have to see all my wounds anyway, if you're planning on patching them up."

He finally met her eyes, a stoic look on his face. "I know, sorry, I was just trying to make you feel less uncomfortable."

Of course he was, her sweet angel. Meg thought the funniest thing about it was that he actually meant that. And they said chivalry was dead.

He cleared his throat then, and headed toward the bathroom. "I'll get some cloths and towels."

In another few minutes, he had set up all the things he would need to tend to her wounds, and Meg had pulled a towel around her shoulders so Cas wasn't quite so embarrassed. She watched him as he slipped out of his trench coat, and rolled up his sleeves before he sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. Meg raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down.

"The jeans are a good look on you," she told him. "But I have to say, I do miss the tie. It just went so well with your coat."

Castiel smiled slightly, as he reached for a wet washcloth to begin dabbing the dried blood from her wounds. "This is…temporary. I didn't have anything but the hospital clothing when I got out of Purgatory."

Meg studied him as he cleaned her injuries methodically, starting with her wrists and working up her arms. He seemed…put together. More like his old self again instead of the loopy counterpart that she had cared for.

"These wounds have started to fester," he said, dabbing gently at the inside of her right wrist where the manacles had cut into her repeatedly as she struggled on the rack.

"I'm not surprised," she remarked, watching as he carefully wrapped some gauze coated with antibiotic cream around her tender wrist, his fingers brushing her skin only lightly as if afraid any touch would cause her pain, as if she were made of glass. It was so different to how anyone had ever touched her before that it made her smile and warmed something deep inside of her. "You really do know how to make a girl's nethers quiver, don't you?" she teased.

Castiel's cheeks tinted slightly, but he continued with his task. "I…am aware of how to do that. Although it doesn't usually involve cleaning wounds."

Meg shrugged, her eyes still locked on his face, watching how intently he worked, putting so much care and devotion into every little motion. "Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?" she asked offhand.

He glanced up at her before returning his gaze to a deep cut on her arm. "I don't know," he replied. "And I still don't know who Clarence is."

Meg smirked. "Would it kill you to watch a movie, read a book?"

Castiel shrugged. "A movie, no. But a book with the proper spells, yeah, it could theoretically kill me."

"You know you're much cuter when you're shutting up," Meg told him fondly.

Cas looked up at her again, but didn't say anything, moving on to a cut on her collarbone.

"So," she continued, studying him again. "Which Cas are you now? Original make and model or crazytown?"

Cas shrugged. "I'm just me."

"So your noodle's back in order?"

He gave a small nod. "Yeah, my noodle remembers everything; I think it's a pretty good noodle."

Meg smiled slightly and raised an eyebrow at him. "Hm, you remember everything?"

Cas stopped cleaning her wound and looked at her for a long moment before flicking his eyes away in embarrassment. "If…you're referring to the pizza man, then, yes, I remember the pizza man. And it's a good memory."

Meg grinned then hissed as he pressed against the raw wound. Castiel apologized and turned to grab some gauze to tape over it.

"You ever miss the apocalypse?" Meg asked after a few moments of silence.

Castiel gave her a funny look. "No, why would I miss the end of times?"

Meg pulled the towel off her shoulder so he could see to another bad wound and shrugged slightly. "I guess I miss the simplicity," she told him. "I was bad, you were good…life was easier. Now it's all so messy."

Cas gave her a bemused look as he reached for more gauze. "How so?"

"Well, I'm kinda good, which sucks," Meg told him and gained a small smile from the angel. "And you're kinda bad…which is actually all manner of hot." He cast a glance at her as if he didn't quite believe or understand what she was saying.

"Well, thanks, I guess…" he replied.

She shifted so he could start cleaning a wound on her side, and quirked an eyebrow at him. "You know, Cas, when I'm better, and there's no impending doom, I think we should take some time, just the two of us." She looked up at him and he met her eyes, his gaze so piercing. She always felt like those blue orbs were seeing straight into her, and the fact that he could do that, see her for who she truly was, and still care so much for her, was the reason she had fallen for him in the first place.

"That would be nice," he said.

She smiled suggestively. "And when we do, I want to order some pizza, and we're gonna move some furniture around, do you understand?"

Castiel cocked his head at her, eyes narrowing. "No, I—" She kept smiling, and raised an eyebrow, trying to get the point across. Understanding dawned on Cas' face, along with a slight flush as he looked down to one side before flicking his eyes back to hers. "No wait, yes, I do…"

She didn't let him finish before she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Castiel became a statue, frozen in surprise before she pulled back several inches to find his blue eyes staring into hers again.

"Meg," he whispered.

She smirked and pressed a finger to his lips. "What did I tell you before, Clarence?" she teased.

Castiel smiled back and carefully reached up a hand to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as he tipped her head backwards slightly before he lowered his mouth to hers again. This time, he was not a statue and Meg relished the feeling of his mouth melding to hers, as she reached up to grip his shoulders. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. She moaned slightly as he deepened the kiss, tentatively at first, then with more confidence. Her whole being was overwhelmed by the feel of him; the light of his grace, the clean, fresh way he tasted like lightning and rainwater. There was something transcending about the experience that made her feel pure. The fact that an angel could love _her_ , a lowly demon—it made her feel like she could overcome anything. It was almost like…absolution.

When she came out of the dizzying, passionate vortex, she found herself sitting on Cas' lap, her hands tangling in his hair, and one of his hands pressed hot to the bare skin of her back. They stared at each other for a moment, breathing heavily, before that adorable look of embarrassment with the vague blush of realization crossed his features again and he gently helped her sit back against the pillows as he stood from the bed.

Cas cleared his throat. "Um, I've finished with your wounds." He began to put away the first aid things while Meg reached for her bag and rummaged through it for a comfortable shirt that wouldn't rub on the wounds.

She pulled it on carefully while Cas finished cleaning up and noticed he looked like he wasn't sure what to do just then. She suddenly realized that she didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to be left alone right now.

"Cas," she said quietly, reaching out and grabbing his hand as he picked up the first aid bag. "Stay with me." She was almost disgusted with herself for that weakness, but she had truly never felt more vulnerable than at that moment. The days of torture had worn on her. The days of not knowing whether Castiel was alive or dead had too. Now that she had her angel back, she wasn't ready to let him go.

He dropped the bag after a second and smiled slightly. "Okay. But only if you rest. Your wounds need time to heal."

"I'll rest if you will," she said firmly. "You're cute and all, but you look like crap."

Cas gave her a sheepish look. "I have been a bit low on power recently."

"I can tell," Meg said and patted the bed beside her.

Cas sighed resignedly but smiled as he pulled the covers down before sliding into the bed beside Meg, sitting mostly propped up against the headboard. Meg turned to face him, pulling the covers up around her shoulder before she curled up against him, resting her cheek against his chest, feeling the grace that swirled within him, pulsing with his essence.

Cas wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Meg closed her eyes and smiled. This may have been one of her weakest, most vulnerable, moments, but she couldn't help but think she had never felt stronger and more protected than she was right now in Castiel's arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**I bet you thought that last chapter was going to segue into a happy ending? Ha :P**

Chapter Nine

Sam heaved a sigh of relief as he and Dean grabbed their bags from the Impala and retreated to their own room for the night. He was exhausted, and he knew Dean must be as well, wasn't even sure if his brother had slept _at all_ since he had gotten back from Purgatory. It was honestly amazing he could even stand up.

"Well, that's that," Dean said as he threw his bag down on his bed, shrugging out of his jacket, and checking his weapons as he put them away. "Cas got to rescue the damsel in distress." He chuckled, smirking. "You think they'll, uh…?"

Sam shot him a bitchface and rolled his eyes. "Dude, lay off."

"I mean, how would that even work?" Dean mused.

"Dean, come on, get your mind out of the gutter for five minutes," Sam pleaded, way too tired for his brother's inappropriate curiosity at the moment.

Dean shot him a look in return. "You're such a prude. Seriously, though, I'm happy for them."

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," Dean said sincerely, heading toward the kitchenette to poke through the bags of food Sam had bought. "I mean, I wasn't exactly Team Meg to begin with, but she's proved herself to be a decent ally, and you can tell how much they care about each other, especially with all that eye-sex going on in the backseat earlier." Dean rolled his eyes. "Seriously, it would be a service to all of us if they just did it."

Sam snorted, shaking his head, but the truth was, he was happy for Cas and Meg too—and happy this story had had a happy ending. God knows they deserved one of those every once in a while. "It is nice to know Cas has someone besides us to care about him."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, sighing as he settled on a bag of beef jerky, and sat back against the headboard of his bed with a sigh of relief.

"So, how'd it go with Benny?" Sam asked, sitting on his own bed and taking his shoes off.

"Good," Dean said. "He's gone off to his old hunting grounds. Got him a phone to call us if he needs anything."

Sam shot him a look. "Hunting grounds? He's not just gonna start fanging people is he?"

Dean glared at him. "No, Sam. He's only drinking bagged blood. Look, he may be a vampire, but Benny's one of the good ones. We wouldn't have gotten out of Purgatory without him. I owe him my life _and_ Cas'. The worst thing he'll do is turn over a couple blood banks."

Sam held his hands up. "Okay, I trust you. I'm sure he'll be fine." Honestly he was too tired to argue about it. "So, what now?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, Roman's dead, so we don't have to worry about America becoming a monster meat factory, and we got you and Cas out of Purgatory and rescued Meg. That was everything on our to-do list."

"I guess we go back to doing what we always do," Dean said, though Sam didn't miss the slight question in his voice. The note of loss, the feel of drifting. He felt it too. Ever since they'd had to burn Bobby's flask, the last piece of him they had, even if he was a ghost at the time, he'd felt something break inside of him that he didn't think he'd ever get back. Before when they'd been between cases, they knew they could always hang out at Bobby's but his place was gone now too as was the gruff old man's advice that they could use more than anything right now. They had nowhere to go, no one but themselves, and it was kind of frightening.

"Crowley may be a problem," Sam said to break the silence.

"Crowley's always a problem," Dean said, sinking onto his bed. "I don't know, man. We hunt. We do what we always have. Go back to just saving people. Salt and burns, beheading vamps—it would be a nice change from saving the whole friggin' world."

Sam smiled at that. "I think I could manage that." Really, he'd be up for doing anything now as long as he had his brother with him, safe and sound. Lucifer wasn't in his head anymore, Cas was back to normal and they'd rescued Meg; things actually seemed pretty good.

"Well, I'm gonna hit the shower," Sam told his brother, grabbing some fresh clothes from his bag. "We can go grab some real food from the diner across the street after if you want."

Dean grunted in agreement and Sam retreated to the bathroom.

By the time he got back out though, Dean was lying on his bed, fast asleep, still fully dressed.

Sam smirked slightly, and carefully removed Dean's boots, and tugged the comforter from under him to cover him up with. Then he simply exchanged his jeans for a pair of sweat pants and slipped into his own bed, and flicked the light off; for the first time in a long time, getting a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

 _Castiel had drifted into a state that wasn't quite sleep_ , but wasn't fully consciousness either. It wasn't like back in Purgatory when he'd had to recharge his grace by resting at night; everything was different on the earthly plane. All he knew was that he was very comfortable, especially with the demon cradled against his chest.

He opened his eyes slightly, glancing down at her sleeping features as her cheek rested against his shoulder, one hand settled against his ribs as she curled into his body as if seeking his warmth. He pulled her a fraction closer and tipped his head to rest his cheek on the top of her head, inhaling her scent as he closed his eyes again. She smelled like all demons, a little sulfur, ash and brimstone, like Hell itself, but under that, he'd always detected the slight scent of roses in Meg. And right now, she smelled more like roses than anything. Just like when he looked at her true self, he saw less of her demonic darkness and more of just the thorns and roses, which had made him fall for her in the first place, even if he hadn't truly understood his feelings for what they were until the night before. She had always tried so hard to hide the beauty inside of her, but she had somehow let him see it, bared herself to him, willingly, knowingly, or otherwise, and he vowed that one day he would make sure she saw that beauty in herself.

She sighed softly against his neck, settling against him more completely, one leg hooking over his, and he allowed himself to start drifting off again, subconsciously settling one of his currently ethereal wings over top of her.

He should have known that the peace would never last.

Castiel was startled from his peaceful rest as the door to the room slammed open. He surged onto an elbow, expecting to see Sam or Dean standing there with bad news, maybe even Crowley or his demons. But he actually hadn't expected to see one of his own brethren.

"Castiel," the angel said, his voice laced with disgust.

Meg had woken by then, anger clouding her expression as she shoved hair from her face to see what was going on. "What the hell is this?"

The angel strode into the room, followed by three more, all with hard expressions on their faces as they surrounded the couple on the bed. Castiel pulled Meg in against him, curling around her protectively as he glared at the intruders.

"Looks like we've finally found you," said the lead angel, casting a disgusted look at Meg.

"What do you want?" Castiel demanded, his eyes shifting to the angel blade that he had left on the bedside table, though the action was pretty futile. Even if he was able to reach it, he wouldn't be able to go against four other angels while he was protecting Meg from them.

"To bring you to justice," said another angel. She shook her head. "First you ruin heaven, kill our brothers and sisters, and now we find you here defiling yourself with demonic filth."

"Hey, we didn't—" Meg began but one of the angels reached forward and grabbed her, ripping her from Castiel's arms.

"Stop! Don't hurt her!" Castiel pleaded as hands grabbed him too, hauling him from the bed and holding him tightly. An angel blade touched the soft part of his throat.

The angel who was leading the group shook his head at Castiel in disgust. "You really have fallen so far, Castiel. Defending humans, a _demon,_ over your own kind."

"What shall I do with the demon, Jonah?" the angel who held Meg asked, his blade already pressed to her throat as she struggled to free herself.

Castiel held his breath, sure they would kill her right then, but Jonah held up a hand. "Bring it. Naomi will know what to do with the both of them."

 _Naomi?_ Castiel frowned, not recognizing that name. Which was strange. He may not know all his brethren personally, but he knew their names. And he couldn't understand why hers put a sick pit in his stomach.

Castiel burst into action, kicking one of the angels in the knee and slamming his head back into the other's face. They released him with shouts of surprise, and Castiel leapt over the bed for his angel blade. If he could at least start by taking the ones out who had Meg…

Of course, he didn't get that far. Jonah stepped in and caught his wrist before he could reach his blade. He wrenched Castiel's arm around, causing him to cry out as he felt a pop in his wrist and elbow. Jonah wrenched him close and pressed his mouth to Castiel's ear.

"You're not getting out of it this time, Castiel. You must pay for your sins."

And then he gripped the back of Castiel's head and the last thing he heard before Jonah made his head meet the corner of the side table was Meg yelling his name. Everything after was darkness.

* * *

 _Dean couldn't exactly explain_ what woke him from his deep—fantastic—sleep but he found himself surging up, looking for a weapon and glancing toward the second bed.

"Sammy," he hissed, already out of bed, looking at the clock. It was only two in the morning.

Sam started awake, scrambling for the gun under his pillow. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Dean said, the worry still a pit in his stomach that was making him sick. "But I'm gonna go check on Cas and Meg."

Sam groaned, falling back onto the bed. "Dean, your perverse curiosity is not—"

"Shut up, I think something might actually be wrong," Dean snapped, already heading toward the door before he realized he had no shoes. Too late, he'd just have to go without.

Sam was on his heels immediately, hearing the concern in his voice, his gun and the demon knife in his hands.

"You think it's Crowley?"

"We warded the rooms," Dean replied, and pushed outside into the cool night air. He nodded to Sam and they headed down the sidewalk in front of the building to Cas and Meg's room. Dean's heart instantly dropped to his stomach as he saw the door ajar. He turned to Sam and motioned. Sam took up position on one side of the door as Dean took the other, and then kicked the door in before slipping inside, his gun at the ready.

But no one was there.

"Cas?" he called warily as Sam stepped around him to check the bathroom. Dean looked around. The comforter had been pulled from the bed, half hanging off of it, as if the occupants had left swiftly—and not of their own accord. He saw the first aid bag sitting on the table by the window, some bandages and salves still scattered over the bedside table.

Sam stood next to him. "None of the warding, not even in the bathroom window, is broken. Demons could not have gotten in here. The salt like on the door is scuffed from the inside." Probably to get Meg out.

"I don't think it was demons," Dean said grimly as he stepped over to the side table and touched the corner where there was some fresh blood as if someone had struck their head on it. Dean hoped it was one of the enemies, but since Cas and Meg were both gone, and there were no bodies, he could only imagine they had been taken unawares and had been given no chance to fight.

Something caught his eye and he glanced down to see a glint of silver sticking out from under the bed. He reached down and pulled out an angel blade.

He couldn't really tell the difference between then, but he was going to bet this was Cas'.

"Dammit," he growled as he straightened up. This had been his fault. He never should have let them split up.

"What are you thinking?" Sam asked grimly.

"I'm thinking Crowley wouldn't have stopped at Cas and Meg if we were three rooms down," Dean said. "Which is why I'm gonna go with the feathered dickbags on this one." And he didn't have to explain to Sam how bad that was. The fact that they had Cas _and_ Meg, had found them _together_ , no matter how innocent their exchange might had been…Dean swallowed back bile. Meg would be killed for sure, but he didn't even want to know what they had planned for Cas. The angel had never really told Dean what heaven's 'reeducation' had involved, but Dean had a feeling that in some ways, it may have been worse than what he'd gone through in hell.

Sam didn't say anything, his jaw tight in silent agreement. Dean started packing up the stuff. "I guess at this point we can only hope they haven't been dragged to heaven."

Sam carefully picked Cas' trench coat up from where it hung on the back of a chair and swallowed hard, shaking his head. "I don't know. But we'll find them. Track anomalies or whatever." He sounded hopeless and Dean's hand tightened into a fist.

"We didn't get him back just to lose him like this," he said half to himself. "After everything…"

"We'll find them," Sam repeated firmly, folding the trench coat and setting it almost gently next to the first aid bag. "Clean up here, I'll start looking."

The instant Sam left the room, Dean slumped, Cas' angel blade clattering against the table as Dean settled his hands on top of it, head hanging between his shoulders.

Why couldn't any of them ever be allowed a few moments of peace without everything going to hell?

* * *

 _Castiel came to sharply,_ his head jerking upright, where pain proceeded to stab him behind the eyes, forcing him to squeeze them shut with a moan.

"Cas."

The familiar voice came to his left and he forced his eyes open so he could see where he was. He blinked to clear his vision and Meg came into focus. She was chained to a chair set in the middle of a devil's trap, looking a bit roughed up; more than she had previously. Castiel's anger boiled, before he realized he too was chained to a chair. He grunted as he realized the cuffs around his wrists were Enochian. No wonder his head injury hadn't healed yet.

"Meg, are you all right?" he asked hoarsely.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm chained up in a devil's trap captured by angels who want to kill me. Yeah, I'm good."

Castiel shook his head, a sick pit in his stomach. "I'm sorry. I should never have…"

"Hey, shut up, Clarence," she said with a small smile. "You know this wasn't your fault. I'm just sorry we didn't actually get to do what they're accusing us of."

Castiel frowned, not sure what she meant but Meg waggled her eyebrows at him and he felt a slight blush tint his cheeks. "It…wouldn't matter to them anyway. The fact that they found us together in a non-hostile situation at all is enough for them to convict me of whatever they choose. As if they needed yet another reason." Truthfully, Castiel couldn't blame them entirely. He would never forgive himself for what he did to his brethren during Raphael's revolution, but their accusations against him concerning his fondness for the Winchesters—for Meg—he would not apologize for those. Meg had been his caretaker and a friend when he had needed one most, and the Winchesters…they had been his family when heaven hadn't wanted anything to do with him. He would never give them up for any reason.

He glanced around at the surroundings then, trying to figure out where they were. Of course they were still on Earth, they would never have brought a demon to Heaven after all, but Castiel couldn't tell where they were, his orientation was off due to the sigiled cuffs. The room they were in seemed to be an old electrical room, probably from an abandoned factory if he were to guess. They seemed to end up in a lot of those.

He turned back to Meg who was tugging experimentally on her chains. Of course, even if she could get out of those, she would still be stuck in the devil's trap. "Meg, did they hurt you?" he asked her, biting back his bubbling anger at the thought.

She smiled at him softly. "I'm okay, Clarence. Just a few more bruises to add to the collection."

Before he could say more, the door to the room shrieked open on rusty hinges and a figure slipped in. Castiel glanced up, expecting to see the sneering face of Jonah again, but was surprised to see an angel in the vessel of a young man wearing a ridiculous red and white striped outfit with a hot dog on the front of it. But the angel he knew, and Castiel was somewhat shocked to see him here on earth.

"Samandriel?" he asked, frowning.

The angel gave a small nod. "Castiel. It's…are you well?"

"He's chained to a chair, genius, what do you think?" Meg asked blandly.

Samandriel cast a swift, wary look at her before turning back to Castiel.

"What are you doing here, Samandriel? I thought you were seeing to duties in heaven?"

Castiel hadn't known Samandriel extremely well, the other angel had been younger than him, and was in a different garrison that mostly stayed and saw to affairs in heaven. But Samandriel had stood by him during Raphael's uprising, and Castiel had seen a goodness in him that he rarely saw in his brothers and sisters. He could tell that Samandriel truly wanted to do good, which was why it surprised him to see the younger angel working with the likes of Jonah.

Samandriel cast his eyes down at the question. "I was assigned as a go-between," he said. "Naomi thought that…since I fought with you against Raphael I may be able to…make you see reason."

Castiel felt anger wash over him and he glared at the other angel. "So you're here to ask me to betray my friends? You are wasting your breath, Samandriel."

The younger angel shook his head. "Castiel, I would never ask that of you. I don't…" he stopped, biting his lip and glancing over his shoulder at the door before he stepped closer to Castiel's chair, lowering his voice. "I don't want you to have to go through that. But they are looking for someone to blame and they've picked you. There's nothing going to stop them once they get their minds set. You know that."

He actually looked like he sincerely regretted what the angels had decided. Castiel's heart softened slightly. "I _am_ to blame, Samandriel," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Cas," Meg protested.

"Meg, no," Castiel said quickly, glancing at her until he was sure she would be quiet. "No, it's true. I will never stop regretting what I did to Heaven. If they need to see retribution done, then I suppose I can't deny them that."

"Like hell," Meg snapped.

Samandriel shook his head. "Castiel, whatever they believe, I know, the ones who fought with you know, that you did what you thought you had to do. You still have friends in Heaven, Castiel." He said the last part quietly, again glancing at the door.

Castiel felt another wave of anger wash over him. "If I truly have friends in Heaven, then why do they capture me and chain me up instead of asking me to speak with them like civil beings?"

Samandriel bit his lip again. "We don't always have a choice. You know that."

Memories of pain, Zachariah's taunting voice chanting repeated reprimands, flashed though Castiel's head and he shut his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, before he looked back up at Samandriel. "I know it's hard. But you can always resist."

Samandriel looked away from him sharply. "We are not all as strong as you, Castiel. Naomi…" a shudder went through him before his face returned to a stoic mask. Castiel frowned at this reaction. That name again.

"Samandriel, who is Naomi?" he asked.

The angel blinked and turned back to him. "You don't know?"

Castiel shook his head, still somewhat confused, feeling like he should. "No, I…I don't think I do."

A somewhat bitter look crossed Samandriel's face. "It would make sense they wouldn't let you remember that," he said almost as if to himself.

A wave of sickness washed through Castiel at the comment. "What do you mean 'wouldn't let me remember'?" he demanded sharply.

Samandriel shook his head, his eyes full of pain. "It's best you don't know."

"Tell me," Castiel snarled, jerking in his chains.

"I'm sorry," the younger angel said and turned to leave.

Castiel jerked in his chains again, jumping the chair on the floor but still unable to get loose. "Samandriel, tell me!" he demanded.

The other angel stopped and turned around. "It will be easier when she's done with you," he said apologetically.

Fear washed over Castiel this time. "What do you mean?"

"They've been in all our heads," Samandriel hissed, fear finally spiking through his eyes. "Naomi leaves what she wants and takes the rest away until you have no choice but to obey."

"How?" Castiel cried.

Samandriel just shook his head. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

The door shrieked open again and one of the angels who had taken Castiel and Meg came in, glancing at them before turning to Samandriel. "I see he's awake. Go tell Naomi." Then he left again.

Samandriel turned, and Castiel was still in shock over what he had heard. Wasn't sure he entirely understood, but he knew it was bad.

"Hey, featherduster," Meg called after Samandriel as he went toward the door. "You can't let this Naomi bitch get into Cas' head, or whatever. Don't you get that he's one of the good ones?"

Samandriel stopped, but didn't look back at her. "I don't like it either. But I have no choice."

"There's always a choice," Castiel told him firmly.

Samandriel turned around again. "Maybe for you," he whispered.

"For _all_ of you," Castiel practically pleaded. "That's what I wanted for all the angels. I just wish you could see it."

"I know," Samandriel said and there was something akin to longing in his eyes before the door was opened and Jonah and several other angels came into the room.

Jonah turned to Samandriel with a scowl. "What are you still doing here? Do not fraternize with the traitor if you can do nothing to sway him. Go tell Naomi we're preparing him."

Samandriel cast one desperate glance toward Castiel behind Jonah's back before he left the room. Castiel wanted to call him back, but didn't want him to get into trouble. Not on his account.

The two other angels with Jonah came forward and started to unchain Castiel. Meg wrenched at her own bonds.

"Hey, where are you taking him?" she demanded.

"Shut up, demon filth," Jonah snarled, backhanding her across the face.

Castiel surged against his chains as they came loose and almost made it to Jonah before the other two angels grabbed him again, one on each arm. They manhandled him out the door as Castiel cast one last glance at Meg, wondering if he'd ever see her again. He swallowed hard.

He was pulled down a hallway to another room that held only a reclining chair with ominous straps on it, and a table with a cloth over the top beside it. Castiel balked instantly as he saw the set up. Something flashed through his mind, a long forgotten memory of unspeakable pain, and hateful numbness and a blurry face he couldn't quite place.

"No," he snarled pulling back against them. "Don't do this."

The angels simply dragged him bodily toward the chair, forcing him into it, and Jonah unmanacled his hands so that they could be forced into the straps attached to the chair instead. Castiel fought against the restraints, panic fluttering in his chest.

"Please don't do this," Castiel tried again; even though he wasn't entirely sure what he was protesting, he knew it couldn't be good.

"Oh, but we have to. For all our sakes."

Castiel jerked his head to the side to see a woman enter the room, dressed in a business suit with her red hair pinned into a smart bun on the back of her head. Samandriel hovered behind her in the doorway, before he turned swiftly and hurried out of sight. Castiel watched as the new angel came over to him, standing beside the chair and looking down with piercing eyes.

"Hello, Castiel," she said. "You don't know me, but I'm Naomi."

He narrowed his eyes. So this was Naomi. "What do you want with me?"

"I want to fix you. For your own good," she said, and he could detect the note of false concern in her voice.

He swallowed hard, glaring up at her defiantly. "I'm not broken."

She pressed her lips together and gave a longsuffering sigh. "You always say that, Castiel. But I promise you'll feel better once I finish. You always do."

Bile rose in his throat at her words and he felt dizzy. "How do I know you? I don't remember you, but…" Realization followed quickly by horror washed through him. "How many times have you been in my head?" he asked hesitantly.

"Too many, Castiel," she said, shaking her head. "Too many." She turned to Jonah and the other angels. "I can take this from here. I'll call you when I need you again."

Castiel watched them go while Naomi strode toward the cart and pulled the cloth off of it. Castiel saw the glint of sterile tools there and his heart thumped in his chest. He struggled with renewed vigor, tearing at his wrists.

"Don't do this," he said again. "Whatever you're doing, _don't_!"

Naomi smiled thinly. "Relax and it will be easier for you. Don't fight me, Castiel." She raised a small drill and flicked it on with a finger. It whirred to life and Castiel was assaulted with a pungent sense of fear, trying to twist free of the restraints but he had been too securely bound, and the bonds were sigiled. A helpless moan passed his lips as Naomi leaned over and grabbed his chin firmly in her hand.

"Hold still," she said through gritted teeth, and lowered the drill toward his eye.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Samandriel leaned against the wall outside the room where Naomi was… _fixing_ Castiel. Hearing the other angel's terrified screams made him sick. He had held out hope for a long time that Castiel would somehow be able to elude capture, but Jonah had found him easily enough and soon he would no longer be the rebel that the angels hated—or the fearless, defiant leader that some of them still loved. He would just be another soldier in Naomi's army; a drone with no mind of his own.

Samandriel slowly sank to sit against the wall, knees drawn to his chest. Every one of Castiel's screams made him recall in flashes what Naomi had done to him as well. It caused him to shudder uncontrollably, and he buried his face in his hands. While he may not have had anything to do with Castiel's capture directly, he still felt like he had betrayed the other angel who he had once fought for and it made him feel dirty and more corrupt than Castiel supposedly was by Naomi's standards. It was because of that that he knew this, what she was doing to them, couldn't be right.

"Samandriel, what are you doing?"

Samandriel snapped his head up quickly and scrambled to his feet as he saw Naomi standing in front of him. It was only then he realized Castiel's screams had stopped and he wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there with his thoughts in turmoil.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said. "Do you need me for something?"

She narrowed her piercing gaze at him, studying, and he felt a small surge of fear wash through him, but she shook her head. "No. But don't go far, I may have need of you later."

She then strode off further into the building.

Samandriel watched her go, and then flicked his eyes toward the door Castiel was behind. He shouldn't, he knew that, but he found himself unable to keep from pushing the door in and slipping inside.

Castiel slumped, shivering and restrained, in the chair. His eyes were closed, and blood was dripping from under his eyelids like garish tears. Samandriel swallowed hard, halting for a few seconds, before he forced himself to walk over to the other angel.

A small moan escaped Castiel's throat and Samandriel reached out and touched his hand, trying to offer a small amount of comfort, even though he knew there was no comfort for this; there was no forgiving this either.

Castiel's eyes flew open at his touch, bloodshot and dilated. Samandriel jerked back a step, but Castiel soon seemed to realize who it was. "Samandriel?" he whispered.

The younger angel nodded. "Yes."

Castiel's eyes squeezed shut again, pain clear in the lines on his face. Naomi hadn't finished with him yet, Samandriel could tell; he still seemed too lucid for that. "What is she doing to me?" Castiel demanded.

Samandriel swallowed hard. "She's trying to make you obedient. Take your will away."

Castiel shook his head. "No…no, you can't let her. I can't…she'll make me hurt them."

"Who?" Samandriel asked.

"Everyone I love," Castiel whispered brokenly.

Samandriel felt an ache in his chest at the sound. He could feel the turmoil in Castiel's grace, the pain emanated from the angel's true self. He bit his lip, so many options running through his head. He thought about what Castiel had said earlier. That they all had a choice. Maybe it was time he took his.

"Castiel," he said, leaning over and gripping his forearm. "I will do everything I can to try and get you out of here."

"Why should you?" Castiel asked bitterly, glaring coldly up at Samandriel. "You're already working with them."

Samandriel felt remorse stab him, but he knew it was well deserved. "Because you said we always have a choice, and I want to take mine." He took a deep breath. "I…I just want to do something good again. And you are good, Castiel. I want to help you."

Castiel looked at him for a long moment, before he seemed to sag. "And Meg," he whispered. "Make sure she is safe too."

Samandriel nodded in acceptance, watched as Castiel's face crumpled with pain again, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Samandriel looked over his shoulder. Naomi would probably be back soon to finish her work. Samandriel had to be gone before he was found here. But now he knew what he was doing, what his path was, and he was going to stick with it, for better or worse.

He slipped out of the room then, just barely missing one of Jonah's men as he crossed the hallway. But Samandriel went undetected as he headed toward a side door of the building. Once he was outside, he spread his wings and flew toward the Winchesters, hoping that they might still be at the motel so he could find them easily. He knew Castiel didn't have much time.

Perhaps, finally, he could do something good again.

* * *

 _Meg had been waiting anxiously for hours_ after they took Castiel away. She had a pit in her stomach, not knowing what they could be doing to him, and who that Naomi bitch was. What that angel in the Weiner Hut uniform had been talking about didn't sound good at all.

Meg also had to wonder why she was still alive. Angels didn't usually wait to ask questions when it came to demons unless they needed some specific information out of them. Since they hadn't played twenty questions with her yet, she figured they had to have an ulterior motive for keeping her alive, and that did not comfort her in the least.

Just then, she detected footsteps outside the door and it was opened a few seconds later, emitting an angel who hadn't been part of the original party, but…she did still look familiar. Pantsuit and bun…

"I know you," Meg said suddenly in recognition. "You're the one who showed up to take Kevin Tran away."

The angel cocked her head to one side. "Yes, and you're the demon who was there with Sam Winchester. I would like to know where the prophet is."

Meg smirked. "And I'd like a to get out of these chains, but we can't always get what we want."

The angel straightened up, walking over to the edge of the demon trap. "I'm Naomi, by the way."

So this was Naomi. That made sense. Meg looked her up and down. "Really? I was thinking more Nurse Ratched than pantsuit businesswoman type."

Naomi cocked her head to one side, crossing her arms over her chest. "You are very bold for a demon who has no chance of escape and no leverage."

Meg shrugged as far as the chains would allow, smirking. "I'm sure that's what you want me to think."

Naomi narrowed her eyes. "If you think you will survive this, you're mistaken. You are nothing but an abomination and we have no reason to keep you alive."

Meg leaned forward as far as she could. "Then why don't you just kill me?"

Naomi shook her head. "No, you still have a purpose. You will be the test to see if Castiel's training holds."

Meg felt unease wash over her, but she did her best to hide it. "What training?"

Naomi started pacing around Meg. "Castiel is being relieved of his defiance and the emotions that always cause him to do the wrong things." She shook her head as she came back around. "The Winchesters were bad enough, but finding him fraternizing with the likes of you, defiling himself with unholy filth…" Meg felt rage and indignation surge through her. "Even I couldn't have predicted him falling this far. I suppose I should have worked harder to put a stop to those thoughts, those _urges_ , long ago. Perhaps then, I could have prevented his mistakes. Could have saved our brothers and sisters who lost their lives because of him."

Meg had had just about enough of this bitch. "Okay, you know what? Castiel and the Winchesters saved the _world_ during the apocalypse, and then Castiel did it again when Raphael tried to take over. You think any fewer angels would have died under that bastard's reign? Yeah, Cas made mistakes, but he tried to do good too."

"Exactly," Naomi snapped. "He _tried._ But Castiel has always been misguided by his own thoughts and feelings. He thinks he's doing right, but he's really doing more harm than good. He was always an effective soldier when he was obeying orders, he and his garrison laid siege to Hell to save Dean Winchester, after all. But his defiance did not start with the Winchesters, it just culminated there. I have always had to work harder on him than any of the others. He has always been… wrong."

Meg felt a surge of pride knowing that Castiel had always fought the 'system'. She could definitely see that being the case. Just another reason why she loved him. "Then why don't you just let him go?"

"Because it's not done like that," Naomi said. "Angels are meant to follow the rules and when they don't, catastrophic consequences arise. Just like with Lucifer."

Meg laughed out loud. "Castiel is no Lucifer. Lucifer never wanted anything to be better, he just wanted to defy God and the other angels and everything they stood for. He was a petulant child." She actually surprised herself with that outburst, especially since she truly believed it to be the truth. Sure, she'd been a Lucifer loyalist back in the day, but since then, she'd kind of become disenchanted. Especially since Lucifer hadn't exactly made good on any of his promises. "Cas genuinely wanted to help people. He may even be the last damn angel who just wants to do that; watch over humanity like you're supposed to."

Naomi slapped her across the face, and Meg tasted blood, as she turned back to look into the furious face of the angel. "How dare you?" Naomi snarled.

"Because I know the truth, and so do you," Meg said. "You just don't want to believe it because you're a controlling bitch who gets off on having people under your thumb. I followed Lucifer, and maybe once I believed in what he was selling. But Castiel? What he and the Winchesters do? That is good. I found a new cause in Cas, something that I could actually believe in again."

"You corrupted him," Naomi snarled. "A demon temptress whispering lies in his ear."

Meg laughed out loud. "Corrupted _him_?" she demanded. "He corrupted me! I was totally Team Hell, until he came along. He made _me_ better, I didn't make him bad. If he's a fallen angel, then I am a risen demon. His love is what made me give a crap for anything worth while—you should give him a medal!" She thought of being with Cas, the way he touched her, kissed her; their souls, hers darkness and his full of light, should never have been compatible, but yet she felt so right when she was with him, like she had finally found where she truly belonged. Where she fit. The way he cared for her like no one else ever had, made her genuinely want to reciprocate that care…how could she not be changed for the better because of that?

Naomi slapped her again, harder this time. "You speak blasphemy, you abomination! It is against the rules for angels to have… _carnal_ feelings for anyone, but a demon…that is unspeakable; you should both be put to death by rights. But I am willing to give Castiel another chance. If he sees that justice is properly carried out."

Meg felt her emotions roiling inside of her, ready to explode. "What do you mean justice?" she demanded.

Naomi stepped back, a small thin smile on her lips that made her look very much smug and pleased with herself. "His first job once I get him back in order, will be to do what is right. To renounce you completely and then see this thing finished with a blade in your heart."

Meg's breath caught in her throat. In the back of her mind she had known this was what Naomi was planning, but hearing her say it still pierced her heart, blade not needed. "He won't, you know. You know how defiant Castiel is. If you think he'll do this…"

"He will," Naomi said certainly, sending another shudder through Meg. "When I've finished with him, he will do anything I order him to do."

"He's not your puppet," Meg snarled. "Besides, Sam and Dean—"

"The Winchesters will be the next ones on the list," Naomi said. "They have outlived their usefulness. They will only distract Castiel from his duties. It will do him good to be rid of them too. Such human weaknesses are unseemly."

Meg yanked at her chains, snarling angrily at the angel. "You bitch!"

Naomi slapped her again for good measure. "Silence, demon. I'll see you again later. Right now I still have work to do."

Meg watched her leave, so much anger boiling up in her that she couldn't force any words out. As soon as the door slammed shut, Meg slumped in her chains. She refused to be defeated, refused to believe that Cas could actually be manipulated by that pantsuit, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't terrified that Naomi might be right after all.

Demons might not pray, but that didn't mean that she wasn't really hoping for a miracle right about now. Preferably covered in flannel and borne on the swift tires of a '67 Impala.

* * *

" _I'm not finding crap," Dean snarled_ , fist clenching on the tabletop as he scrolled through dozens of pointless nationwide news reports online for odd weather or other anomalies that _might_ mean angels were nearby but it was getting them nowhere. Cas and Meg had been taken hours ago, it was already light outside, and they still had nothing to go on and nowhere to even start looking.

Sam sighed, sitting back in his chair and running his hands over his face tiredly. "Me either, but there's gotta be something at some point."

"Yeah, like reports of nameless bodies being found," Dean replied bitterly, slamming his laptop shut.

"Dean, come on, we'll find them before that," Sam said, though his reassurance seemed half-hearted.

Dean looked at him balefully. "You sure? Because these are the angels we're talking about and they've been looking for Cas since the debacle with Raphael. He's already on their hit list, and finding him bunking with a demon isn't gonna do him any favors. Or Meg for that matter." He ran a hand through his hair. "Seriously, man, even if they don't kill Cas right away, you think they'll have any qualms for Meg? And if they kill her because of him…he's already messed up, he doesn't need this on his head too."

Sam closed his laptop as well, looking up at Dean. "Dean, Cas and Meg are both resourceful. Even in the worst case scenario, they'll know how to handle themselves."

Dean just shook his head. Sam may not have seen the look in Cas' eyes whenever he mentioned heaven's punishments, but Dean had. And the thought of Cas losing what little self confidence he had just barely started to gain back…he wasn't in a good place right now as it was, and this could be the thing that finally broke him for good. Dean wasn't going to let that happen. He needed to find his friend _now_.

A knock came on the door, startling them both. Dean shared a look with Sam and they both reached for their guns, Sam also grabbing the demon knife, while Dean snatched his angel blade from off the table. He nodded to Sam to stand ready behind the door, as he reached out and opened it a few inches.

"What the hell?" he asked, genuinely surprised. There was a kid standing there dressed in a Weiner Hut uniform that said "Alfie" on the nametag.

"Dean Winchester," the kid said, sounding hopeful.

Sam was instantly standing in the doorway next to Dean, also taking in the strange sight. Dean finally cleared his throat. "Who the hell are you and how do you know my name?" he asked.

The young man looked relieved. "I'm Samandriel. I'm an angel."

Dean started to raise his angel blade but Sam caught his arm. "An angel, huh?" Dean said flatly. "Well, then maybe you know where our friend Cas is?"

The angel, Samandriel—what a mouthful—nodded. "That's why I'm here."

"So what is it, a ransom?" Dean demanded.

Samandriel shook his head. "No, I came alone. The others don't know I'm here and I can't stay long, but Castiel is in trouble. Naomi is trying to break him. And…I couldn't let that happen. He doesn't deserve that."

Dean could see the sincerity in the kid's eyes and his anger lessened slightly. "Look, Saman—I'm gonna call you Alfie—where are they keeping him?"

"And what about the demon who was taken with him?" Sam added.

Samandriel narrowed his eyes. "The demon's still alive. Naomi has plans for her, I think."

Sam and Dean looked at each other before Dean turned back to the angel. "Who is Naomi?"

Samandriel looked at them with a deep pain in his eyes. "She's the one who's been in all of our heads."

Something about that chilled Dean to his core. He wasn't even sure what it meant, but he did not like the sound of it. "Where are they?" he asked again.

"They're not far," Samandriel said. "About two hours down the highway in an abandoned warehouse."

Dean was already in the room, throwing their stuff haphazardly into bags as Sam got the exact directions from the angel. Dean stopped as he reached for Cas' angel blade, then swiftly tucked it into his jacket. Cas was gonna need it on their way out. Dean didn't think it would be an easy trip.

Sam thanked Samandriel and the angel disappeared, obviously needing to get back before he was discovered. Sam glanced toward Dean as he took a couple bags from his brother and they headed out to the Impala.

"You ready?" he asked.

Dean threw the bags into the trunk and slammed it shut, stepping around the car to the driver's seat.

"Let's go launch another rescue mission," he said as he turned the key in the ignition and sped out of the parking lot as fast as he could.

* * *

 _Samandriel came back to the warehouse_ and opened the same side door he had gone out of, slipping inside as quietly as possible.

And ran right into Jonah.

The other angel grabbed his arm instantly, squeezing it tightly enough to hurt. Samandriel winced as he was shoved back against the wall by the bigger angel.

"Samandriel, where have you been?" Jonah growled warningly.

Samandriel fought for words. "I was just outside checking to make sure no one was around, I…"

Jonah pressed his forearm against the other angel's throat and Samandriel stopped talking, knowing instantly it wouldn't do any good when he saw the look in Jonah's eyes. "You lie. I saw you go talk to Castiel. I bet you went to tell his precious human pets where we are."

"N-No!" Samandriel tried to protest, but Jonah slammed him against the wall again, harder this time.

"Do yourself a favor and stop lying. It matters little, anyway. We should have brought them with us to begin with. It will just make it easier, now we won't have to track the Winchesters down later."

Samandriel swallowed hard, feeling utterly defeated. He had failed Castiel and now he had only succeeded in leading his human friends into a trap. Samandriel knew exactly what Naomi would want done now. She would have Castiel kill the Winchesters just like she planned to make him kill the demon.

"As for you," Jonah said, shaking his head as he grabbed Samandriel by the shoulder and pulled him away from the wall. "I have my own plans for you."

* * *

 _It didn't take them long_. Dean tore off the highway toward the abandoned factory Samandriel had told them about in just under two hours. He parked the Impala a little bit away so they weren't instantly detected, and turned her off, scanning the area.

"No guards," Sam observed. "They probably wouldn't think they needed any."

"One good thing about angels is that they never expect anyone to be smarter than them," Dean added as he got out of the car, checking his coat for his weapons. Sam grabbed a spare angel blade from the duffle bag, and they nodded to each other. They didn't really have an idea of what they were walking into, but Cas was in there, and Meg too, and that was all the incentive they needed.

"Our friend Alfie say anything about how many were in there?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "He didn't say much before he flew off again."

Dean grunted, keeping an eye on the door. "That thing he said about this Naomi chick, that she'd been in all their heads—what the hell do you think that meant?"

Sam pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "Nothing good. Dean, if Cas has been…you know…brainwashed or whatever it is they do to them, we may have a problem."

"I know," Dean bit out, not wanting to be reminded of that thought. He thought back to when they'd first met Cas, how distant he had been before he'd begun to have 'doubts' and started to help Sam and Dean in their fight. And then how he had been dragged back to heaven, the way he had come back a total dick again…Dean wondered if it would be like that, if Cas would go back to 'factory settings' or if this was something worse. If it was, he didn't want to have to find out and he really didn't want Cas to have to go through that.

They had reached the door by then, and he glanced over at Sam, seeing his brother gripping his angel blade in preparation. Sam nodded and Dean moved to open the door. It creaked terribly and Sam darted inside, blade held ready, Dean right behind him, at his shoulder.

It took them only a fraction of a second to realize they were surrounded.

Five angels stood around them, though one was being held at sword point—Samandriel. The kid had a look of utter defeat and remorse in his eyes.

"Sam and Dean Winchester, so good of you to join us," said one of the angels with a nasty smile as he stepped forward, blade held at the ready. "I think you'll be wanting to drop those blades now."


	11. Chapter 11

**Well, we're at the climax now! Only one chapter after this. Thanks as always to everyone who has been reading this :)**

Chapter Eleven

Sam and Dean were forcibly led further into the factory toward a room which one of the angels, who seemed to be the leader—Dean had heard one of the others call him Jonah—opened up. The door shrieked on rusty hinges and the Winchesters were shoved inside, both nearly stumbling before the door was slammed shut and locked behind them.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, kicking the door once on principle, and then caught sight of Meg sitting chained to a chair in the center of a devil's trap on one side of the room.

She smiled wryly when she saw them. "Oh look, my heroes."

"Meg!" Sam cried, rushing over and scraping at the devil's trap with one heel. Dean was already getting his lock pick set out of his boot—the angels hadn't bothered to check for that—and was crouching behind her chair to unlock the manacles.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Peachy," Meg replied sarcastically. "I was kind of getting bored of being free again. Apparently I have a serious case of Stockholm syndrome."

Dean released her wrists and pulled the chains from around her, glancing at the fresh blood and bruises that stood out on her cheek and split lip. "For the record, we did come with a rescue plan," he told her as he helped her stand up. "They just got to our inside man first."

Meg cocked an eyebrow at him. "Inside man?"

"An angel named Samandriel came and told us where you were being kept," Sam told her. "But they had him at sword point when we got here."

"Huh," Meg said, some surprise showing on her face. "I guess the featherduster wasn't a complete loss after all. Though I suppose he'll probably be killed now… or _fixed."_

Dean glanced at her as she said that. "Meg, do you know what they're doing to Cas?"

She wrapped her arms around herself and sank down to sit against the wall. "Nothing good. From what that bitch Naomi said, it sounds like they're brainwashing him."

Dean's stomach flipped, but it wasn't exactly surprising news."

"You've seen Naomi?" Sam asked.

Meg gave a wry smile. "Oh yeah, me and her had a nice little chat."

Dean took in the fresh bruises on her face and could imagine how that had gone. He'd had enough dealings with angels to know how they worked.

"So," Meg said, eyes flicking between the two of them. "Any chance of picking the lock from in here?"

Dean cast a glance at the door but shook his head. "No. Padlock on the outside. We're screwed."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," Meg said and rested her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. Dean shared a look with Sam and then they both slowly sank down on either side of her, facing the door.

"Just when I thought things were finally starting to work out too," she sighed.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, well, welcome to our lives."

"Your lives suck," she replied, turning to glance at him.

"Don't I know it," Dean muttered as he stared at the door. He had a bad feeling he wasn't going to like whatever walked through there next.

* * *

" _Castiel, can you hear me?"_

Castiel opened his eyes, blinking blearily up at the woman standing over him. He frowned slightly, wondering what had happened. Everything felt…fuzzy, muted, like he wasn't all there. Maybe he wasn't. Had he been injured? He found it hard to remember what had happened, in fact, his mind was very dull, but also oddly clear. It was odd that it could be both, and Castiel immediately didn't like the feeling. It felt wrong. The woman's voice certainly sounded clear in his mind, something that demanded an answer.

"Yes," he found himself saying without consciously thinking to do so. Somewhere deep down that unnerved him, though he couldn't guess why.

"Good," the woman said and he could see her more clearly now as his eyes came into focus. She seemed vaguely familiar…Naomi? The name came into his head, so that must be who she was. Somewhere deep in his mind, the name made him feel…something, something negative, but he didn't know why that was either. He must have been injured, he decided. His brain wasn't working properly.

"Can you stand up, Castiel?" she asked him next.

It was only then he realized he was sitting in a reclining chair. He frowned, and slowly pushed himself upright, sliding off of it to stand in front of Naomi. She smiled at him.

"How do you feel, Castiel?" she asked.

He thought about it for a long moment, brow furrowed. "I feel…nothing," he realized as he searched himself. It was true, there was nothing to feel. Everything was just…blank.

The spark of alarm started to ignite in him. _No, this isn't me._ A voice deep inside of his head tried to say. _Wake up. Wake up!_

He pressed the voice back down, as Naomi started to talk again and he was inexplicably forced to give her his whole attention.

"I have a task for you, Castiel," she told him, walking over to a table that sat next to the chair. It had a cloth over it and she shifted it slightly to reach underneath. Castiel's stomach clenched at the motion and he was confused at his reaction, but it went away as soon as Naomi pulled his angel blade from under it and handed it to him hilt first. He took the cold metal into his hand, holding the blade at his side, awaiting her orders.

"There is a demon that needs to be executed, as well as two humans," she told him. "You have a duty to heaven to fulfill."

Castiel nodded automatically, accepting the mission. But he still couldn't get the niggle out of his mind of something about this not being right.

"What are the crimes of the humans?" he asked her.

A frown appeared between Naomi's brows but she was quick to hide it. "That doesn't matter, Castiel. All you need to know is that they are sinners, they are evil, and they must be dealt with."

Words stuck in Castiel's throat. Words that he couldn't quite find even though he knew somehow they should be said. A dull ache started behind his eyes and the frown reappeared on Naomi's brow again before he swallowed back the strange urge. Instead he just nodded. "I will see it done."

"Good," Naomi said, relaxing slightly. "Everything seems to be back in order."

Something about that phrase was strange too, but every time Castiel tried to delve deeper in that thought, it was like hitting a brick wall. So he chose to ignore it instead and followed Naomi as she led him toward the door.

The room opened to an abandoned factory and Castiel dutifully followed Naomi down a long industrial looking hallway, presumably to where they were keeping the prisoners he was supposed to execute.

That was when he caught sight of several more angels standing around. Two were busy picking up a body to bear it away. Castiel stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as he took in the dead angel they bore between them.

"Samandriel," he said, shocked, something akin to grief fluttering up inside his chest before it was pressed back by the unknown force that was currently encircling his mind. "What happened?"

Another angel, Jonah, stepped forward, casting an irreverent glance at the dead angel. "He was a—"

"He was killed, by the prisoners," Naomi cut in sharply, sending Jonah a sharp glare. Castiel thought the exchange was odd, but his whole attention was taken by Naomi again as she turned to look him in the eyes. "His loss was regrettable. But you will see him avenged if you do your duty, Castiel."

Castiel looked back at Samandriel's body again, before Naomi snapped at him and he spun around, finding Jonah's hand clamping onto his shoulder.

"Come do your duty, Castiel," Naomi told him.

"Of course," Castiel replied without emotion. Perhaps he was doing good after all if he could avenge Samandriel's death.

Jonah walked beside them, but let go of Castiel's shoulder as they continued on their way. Finally Naomi stopped at a locked door and motioned for Jonah to open it. She turned to Castiel, her eyes firm and piercing.

"Remember, Castiel. No matter what, you must do your duty." The last words felt as if they were being driven into his skull, and a vague pain lanced behind his eyes again, but he simply nodded.

"Of course," he said and turned toward the door as Jonah opened it, preparing to do as she asked.

* * *

 _Meg heard the footsteps grow nearer_ and she shared a glance with the Winchesters as they stopped outside of the door. All three of them got to their feet. Meg felt sick, wishing she had a weapon. She was pretty sure she knew what was coming and she wasn't sure she could face this. Just the thought of seeing what Naomi had done to Castiel was a stab to the chest, but she was even more frightened of Naomi being proven right. What if she actually had managed to brainwash Cas? What if he was forced to kill her and the Winchesters? Meg was sure that Naomi was evil enough to make sure Cas knew what he had done when he was lucid enough for it to break him. Meg was pretty sure that the angels couldn't break Castiel with brainwashing and torture forever since they'd apparently been pretty unsuccessful so far, but she was also certain that being forced to kill the people he cared about would break him anyway.

The door opened and that dick Jonah stepped in, a small smirk on his face before he opened the door wider.

Meg caught her breath in dismay and the Winchesters stiffened beside her, as Castiel walked into the room, Naomi close on his heels. The female angel found Meg's gaze and sent her a haughty self-satisfied look. Meg snarled at her in return.

"You bitch," she growled and took a threatening step forward, but Dean's hand clamped onto her shoulder, holding her back.

"Cas?" Sam said softly, almost pleading.

The angel barely acknowledged him, but his brow did furrow and his eyes squinted slightly as if in pain. Meg hoped that he would break out of whatever blank space he was in, but Naomi called to him sharply.

"Castiel, these are the prisoners I was telling you about," she said.

Cas' eyes became distant again and he straightened. Meg felt Dean's hand tighten on her shoulder and she knew he had seen what she had. That this wasn't their Cas. Not right now. Meg wanted to throw up.

"You will see justice done," Naomi told him, and nodded toward Meg. "Start with the demon."

"I..." Castiel looked like he was struggling and Meg took the opportunity.

"Cas, I know you're in there," she said. "You don't have to do this."

He took a small step backwards, eyes cast down in confusion. "No, I…"

"Castiel!" Naomi grabbed the back of his neck and got into his face, stopping him in his tracks. "Obey!"

Cas went ramrod straight as if he'd been shocked. Meg's heart sank as she saw him go robot again.

"Kill the demon," Naomi said.

"Hold on!" Dean snapped, moving in front of Meg. "You can't do this!"

Jonah strode over to him as another angel came into the room and went toward Sam. They grabbed the Winchesters and hauled them toward the back wall and pretty soon the two hunters were being held at sword point and Castiel was striding purposefully toward Meg.

It was right then that she decided that whatever had to happen, she wasn't going to let Castiel be broken. One way or another, she was going to stop this.

"Cas no!" Dean yelled as Castiel swung his blade at Meg once and she dodged out of the way.

"Cas! Meg is your friend!" Sam added. "You don't have to do this."

Meg dodged another swipe with Cas' angel blade, wondering how long she would be able to evade him.

"She took care of you, man," Dean added. "Cas, Meg is more than your friend too, isn't she?" That earned him a punch to the gut with the butt of Jonah's angel blade. Dean folded with a choked off cry.

Meg looked up at Cas though, and smiled at him with a wink. "He's right. You and I are kinda a thing. Don't you remember, Clarence?"

Castiel blinked and hesitated slightly at the nickname. Meg held her breath, hoping that she might have finally broken through to him, but then Naomi had to ruin it.

"Do it, Castiel! Kill the abomination!"

Cas swung with renewed vigor and Meg almost didn't get out of the way this time. She ducked and rolled on the floor, then came up as Cas spun around, blade held at the ready. She backed up and then found herself pressed against the wall. "Dammit," she muttered.

Castiel strode forward, and Meg waited until the last second before she ducked. "Sorry, Clarence," she whispered and kicked him in the knee.

Cas cried out and stumbled to his good knee, a look of surprise on his face. Meg danced away, watching.

"What…?" Cas began, looking confused. A hand went to his head and he winced again.

"Castiel!" Naomi snapped, stepping toward the angel. "Kill her!"

Castiel's head came up again and he rose.

"Cas stop!" Dean yelled. "I know you're in there! You don't want to do this!"

"Silence!" Jonah snapped, punching him again.

"Cas, you can do this, fight her!" Sam added before he too was silenced by a heavy blow from the angel holding him.

"Kill the demon!" Naomi snarled.

Meg ducked under another blow Castiel aimed at her. Getting more desperate, she kicked out at him again, catching his hip with her heel. She really didn't want to hurt him, but if pain was the only way to snap him out of this, she figured he would forgive a few bruises. Cas staggered back a step before he surged forward and swung. He caught her with a back swing, slamming the pommel of his blade against the side of her head.

Meg yelped and collapsed. She could hear the Winchesters yelling, but she didn't have time to get up before she felt Castiel's hand around her throat, hauling her to her feet and slamming her back against the wall.

"Cas," she choked out, gripping his wrist.

"Do it!" Naomi shouted. "Finish it, Castiel!"

Cas brought his blade up, but didn't do anything else. He seemed to be hesitating for some reason. Meg caught his eyes, looking straight into them, searching for something she recognized.

"Clarence, don't," she whispered.

"Castiel!" Naomi snapped.

There was an angry yelp of pain from the other side of the room, and Meg caught sight of Dean out of the corner of her eye hurtling toward them. He must have gotten loose from Jonah. More sounds of struggle told her Sam was also fighting back.

"Cas!" Dean shouted as he reached them, grabbing Castiel's sword arm and wrenching him away from Meg and shaking him slightly. "Stop this, man, this isn't you! Fight this!"

Castiel released Meg and she slid to the ground, gasping for breath. The brainwashed angel turned his full attention to Dean now, and Meg was about to shout a warning, but it was too late. Cas had already grabbed Dean by the front of the coat and was swinging him bodily into the wall where he hit with a thud and fell next to Meg with a grunt.

Sam surged forward then, free of his angel guard, and grabbed Cas from behind, wrapping his arms around the angel's upper arms to try and restrain him.

"Come on, Cas," he pleaded. "Stop this!"

"Castiel do your duty!" Naomi screamed again, getting increasingly furious. "Jonah, Abram, on your feet!"

Cas slammed his head back into Sam's nose, and Jonah caught the hunter as he staggered backwards. Dean was on his feet again by then, and rushed at Cas, but the angel just slammed the pommel of his blade into Dean's ribs and threw him to the ground. Dean hit hard, and lay there with a groan.

Cas' focus turned back to Meg now, and he had a determined light in his eyes that made her heart freeze in her chest. She slowly stood up as he came at her.

"Kill the demon, Castiel!" Naomi snarled.

He raised his blade, and at the last minute, Meg surged forward, inside his strike and grabbed his sword arm at the wrist, her other hand on the back of his neck as she used her grip to swing him around and shove him against the wall hard. He blinked dazedly as his head hit the wall, and Meg wasted no time. She had to break him this time and with desperation, she did the only thing she could think of.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his ear and whispered, "Do you remember the pizza man?"

And then she kissed him on the mouth.

* * *

 _Castiel was a captive in his own body_. It was like being chained up, and having a blindfold on that he could still partly see through. He could see Meg and the Winchesters, but could not react to them. His body would not stop trying to kill them, and the blankness that filled his mind told him this was the right thing to do, that it was seeing justice done.

And every time he tried to claw up from his prison, Naomi would speak and send him crashing back down again. He was screaming the whole time, but could do nothing about it. She had him, somehow. She had him tethered to her. He was nothing but a puppet for her to do with as she pleased.

Until Meg threw him against the wall. This was the demon he was supposed to kill, by all rights he should bring his blade up and stab her in the heart. He could have easily broken free of her hold. He was stronger than her, but he had been stopped by completely nonsensical words.

" _Do you remember the pizza man?"_

His captive inner self reached out, triggered by the phrase, getting some leeway. He could feel Naomi's chains loosening, and could also feel her anger. She was about to reinforce the chains again, but everything came crashing down as Meg pressed her lips to his.

Her taste, the smell of her, like ashes and roses, overwhelmed him, leaving him unable to focus on anything else. She clung to him desperately as if she would lose him if she let go—and she just might. But Castiel was sure that Naomi couldn't have him now. He felt her hooks tear free.

A splitting headache caused him to pull away from Meg with a cry as he doubled over, practically throwing the blade aside, so he couldn't be forced to use it.

"Cas!" Meg said, gripping his shoulder.

He saw her, roses and thorns intertwining in her darkness, and wondered how he had ever let Naomi into his head. He looked over to see Sam and Dean, captives of the angels once again, a little roughed up, but alive. They were staring at him with caution and worry in their eyes.

"Castiel!" Naomi snarled, striding toward him. "Finish this, Castiel. Now!"

"What have you done to me, Naomi?" he ground out, looking up at her as another spike of pain drove through his head. Something trickled down his cheek and he raised his fingers to it, pulling them away and finding blood.

Naomi had her hands in his shirt, hauling him to his feet. "Obey me, Castiel!"

He cried out as another headache crippled him. Then he took a deep breath and looked up to stare her in the eyes. "No."

"Fine then," she snarled and slammed the pommel of her blade into the side of his head. Everything fell into darkness.

* * *

 _Meg watched Castiel hit the ground,_ and that was all it took for things to start. Dean took the opportunity of the distraction to grab Jonah's sword arm and slam it with all his strength over his knee. The angel cried out and dropped the blade. Dean snatched it up and stabbed Jonah with it.

The scream and the bright light brought more angels into the room and Sam and Dean instantly went forward to attack.

"Get Naomi!" Dean shouted at Meg.

She didn't need to be told twice.

She snatched up Cas' angel blade, hoping he would be okay, and strode over to where Naomi was still standing over him, despite the surrounding kerfuffle.

"Hey," Meg said and hauled back, slamming the pommel of the blade into the angel's stuck up face.

Naomi gasped and staggered back before getting her own blade ready. "How dare you?"

"Just returning the favor," Meg told her with a smirk. "You hurt my unicorn."

Naomi looked at her in disgust, shaking her head. "You have ruined him. I will have to go through his head and carve out every memory of you as well as the human apes." She swiped at Meg, but the demon danced back easily.

"No you won't," Meg told her, swiping with her own blade, which Naomi caught on hers. "You're going to die."

"Oh, and are you so certain of that, demon?" Naomi sneered.

"Pretty damn certain," Meg replied and surged forward, striking low and slicing Naomi across the ribs. The wound glowed white with grace, and Naomi staggered back a step, folding her hand over the wound as if surprised. Meg smirked.

Naomi slashed at her, and caught Meg across the upper arm, but Meg stabbed her in the thigh, gaining a scream. Meg followed that up with a firm kick to the stomach that sent Naomi staggering back against the wall.

Meg twirled the blade nonchalantly. "Sorry about the pantsuit, bitch."

Naomi staggered upright again and ran at Meg. They locked their blades, and for a moment it was a battle of wills as much as anything. Meg could hear Sam and Dean fighting viciously against the other angels, saw flashes of both parties being tossed around out of the corner of her eye before another bright nova told her another one of the feathered douchebags was down.

She finally got the upper hand on Naomi by kicking her in her already injured thigh. The angel gave a snarling cry and staggered backwards. She slashed at Meg again, but the demon ducked around the blow and slammed her fist into Naomi's face. It felt so good she did it again.

On the third swing, Naomi caught her wrist and wrenched it around. Meg cried out, and brought her blade up, but Naomi caught it against hers, locking the hilts. She used the leverage she had to press Meg up against the wall. Meg struggled, trying to get free, but Naomi had superior strength as well as the upper hand. The crossed blades were getting closer and closer to Meg's throat. She was pressing back with all her strength, but she didn't think she could hold on for much longer.

Another white flash told her that Sam and Dean were still in the game. She managed a smirk.

"They'll kill you too, you know," she told Naomi.

The angel smiled with that smug satisfaction Meg hated. "Not before I kill you, though."

"No."

Naomi gasped as the tip of an angel blade suddenly appeared through her breastbone. Her eyes flew wide, and she staggered back from Meg as the blade was yanked free, wound sparking before Naomi threw her head back and screamed, her eyes burning out in a white nova.

Meg shielded her eyes against the flare. When she was finally able to see again, Naomi lay dead on the floor, wing marks burned on either side of her; and standing over her corpse was Castiel.

"Not before I kill you," he said gruffly to the corpse. He turned to Meg then, and a million emotions washed over his face. "Meg," he said softly, seeming to put them all into that one word.

Meg took him in, from the bloody angel blade, to the welt on the side of his head. He had blood dripping down his cheeks like tears, but his eyes were his once again soulful and sincere. She didn't say anything, just stepped forward and folded him in her arms, pressing her face into the crook of his neck and inhaling his scent. The freshness of him, the brightness of his grace, was dulled a little by the blood and his pain, but it was him. It was a long second before Cas returned the embrace, seeming to be in shock. And who could blame him?

It took her a moment to realize Sam and Dean were there too, hovering beside them.

"Cas?" Dean asked hesitantly.

Meg finally let him go and Castiel turned to Sam and Dean, remorse and pain written all over his face.

"Sam, Dean," he said. "I'm sorry."

He didn't get to finish before Dean yanked him into a rough hug. Cas was stiff at first, but he finally sagged, shoulders slumping. Once Dean had released him, Sam took his place. Meg smirked slightly, but was glad they were being forgiving. They had grown too, it seemed.

"There's no need to be sorry, Cas," Sam told him firmly. "We know it wasn't you."

"Yeah, that bitch messed with your head," Dean said, kicking Naomi's foot from where he stood.

"I never knew," Cas said, stepping over to Naomi and staring down at her with a haunted look. "I don't know how many times she did this…how many others…"

Dean's hand settled on his shoulder. "Cas, what's important is that you are back now, and she's not gonna do that again. To anyone."

"And you fought her," Meg told him, a proud smile on her face. "She told me you did. Apparently you were a real pain in her ass."

Cas looked at her incredulously. "I was?"

Meg reached out to squeeze his hand. "She thought you were broken, but for the record, I think you're the opposite." Sam and Dean nodded in firm agreement.

Cas' gaze softened, but he still looked overwhelmed. Dean seemed to see that too, because he settled a hand on Cas' back and started to nudge him in the direction of the door.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," he said.

"Agreed," Meg replied.

Cas nodded and she felt his hand squeeze hers as they made their way out of the building.

Hopefully this time, they could actually get some much-deserved rest.


	12. Chapter 12

**So here's the final chapter! Finally a little comfort and R &R for our heroes :)**

 **Thanks again to Aini NuFire for betaing this story! Check out her new S12 hiatus AU fic "Miracles Do Happen" for some angsty goodness ^_^**

Chapter Twelve

Castiel's head ached, and he knew it wasn't all from when Naomi had knocked him unconscious. The inside of his skull felt like it had been carved out and rearranged. He shuddered as he realized that wasn't far from the truth.

He was still processing what he had done, what Naomi had done to him. Trying to figure out what she had made him do, the thoughts she had put into his head, as opposed to ones he'd had himself, only made his head hurt worse.

"Cas?"

He found he had stopped walking, the others a few steps ahead, watching him with concern. He shook himself, trying to focus. "I—I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Dean said firmly, sympathy and worry in his eyes. "And no one is gonna expect you to be either."

"What I did…"

Sam stepped forward and gripped his shoulder with a small smile. "We've all been there, Cas. We know it wasn't you."

"You're the one who needs to realize that," Meg told him.

Seeing the three pairs of trusting eyes settled on him, caused him to feel a warmth start in his chest, beginning to chase away the cold horror that had settled there. He knew it would take him a while to forgive himself, or at least to tell himself he wasn't to blame when he had felt himself hurting his friends, but if they were this forgiving, he decided he could probably do so eventually once he got over the shock.

He followed them again, Sam's hand still gripping his shoulder for a few steps, when Castiel caught sight of a body cast into a corner of the room. Recognition and grief crashed over him and he broke free of the others to crouch next to the body.

"Samandriel," he said sadly. "But, how…?" He vaguely recalled flashes of seeing the other angels carrying Samandriel's body and Naomi saying he had been killed by the prisoners; but Castiel knew now that hadn't been the truth.

Sam cursed softly. "He—he helped us find you and Meg, Cas," he said.

Castiel felt Meg's hand on his back, soft and supportive. Castiel didn't need more explanation than that. He reached out and touched Samandriel's cold cheek. "I'm sorry brother," he whispered. "Thank you."

"Sorry, Cas," Dean told him sincerely as Castiel straightened up again stiffly. "He seemed like an okay guy."

"Samandriel was one of the good ones," Castiel said, swallowing back the grief. "He truly understood what it was to be an angel. So few do anymore."

"You do," Sam told him.

Castiel gave the younger Winchester a rueful smile. "Sometimes I'm not so sure."

Meg's hand slipped into his and she tugged him toward the door. "Come on. We should leave. I don't want to be here if more angels show up."

Castiel nodded tiredly, casting one last look at Samandriel, before he continued toward the door with the rest of them.

The late afternoon sun made his eyes and head hurt again, but it was warm, and he was grateful for that at least. He was even more grateful when he saw the Impala parked around one side of the abandoned factory. It was then he realized he had started to associate the vehicle with a sense of comfort and safety, exactly how he felt with the Winchesters.

"Let's get you two cleaned up a little," Dean said, opening the trunk and rooting around for the first aid kit.

Castiel sat down on the Impala's hood and Meg joined him. He glanced over at her while Sam and Dean were still rummaging around in the trunk, and saw the bloody welt on the side of her face. A memory flashed behind his eyes of him hitting her with the angel blade. Guilt clenched in his chest and he reached out to gently run his fingers over the bruise.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Meg smiled, and took his hand from her face, capturing it in both of hers. "I know you didn't. Besides, we're even." She nudged his knee with her own, and Castiel snorted and shook his head with some amusement. He had wondered why it was somewhat sore.

He brought his other hand up and carefully swept some of Meg's hair away from her face, noticing some blood matted in it that would have to be cleaned out. "Thank you," he told her. "If it hadn't been for you…you broke her hold on me. I don't want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't."

Meg smiled and reached up to touch his face. "I couldn't have you be her puppet, Clarence. That's not you. Thanks for ganking her in the end too."

Cas smiled wryly. "You got more hits in."

She smirked. "It felt good too. That bitch."

Dean came over with the first aid bag then, but stopped as he saw their closeness. "Um, need a minute?"

Castiel pulled away slightly and shook his head. "No, I want to tend to her wounds."

Meg raised an eyebrow at him. "What about yours?"

"Yeah, are you good, Cas?" Dean asked worriedly. "I mean, you bled out your eyeballs."

Castiel reached up and touched the now dry tracks of blood on his cheeks. Dean grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and pulled a bottle of water from the bag, wetting it. Castiel thanked him and started to clean the blood off. "I…think that was a result of breaking her hold on me. But I will be fine. I just have a headache. Mostly I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed."

"I bet," Sam said as he joined them, holding a bundle of tan fabric in his hands. He handed it to Castiel with a smile. "You left this in the room," he said.

Castiel gratefully took his trench coat from the younger Winchester. He was still wearing the jeans and blue button down, but as soon as he held the trench coat again he felt a little more complete. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

There was some makeshift first aid then, cleaning up their wounds. Nothing really needed bandaging, thankfully, even though they were all beat up and sore. Not to mention exhausted. Even Castiel was tired, feeling drained. It had been a long day.

Meg grabbed her bag from the trunk, pulling out a fresh pair of clothes that didn't have blood on them and glanced at the others with a cocked eyebrow. "You gonna turn around so I can change?"

The three men swiftly turned, and Castiel was surprised at the urge he had to glance over his shoulder. He felt his face heat up at that thought, and was even more embarrassed when Meg walked up to them, in clean clothes, having even washed the blood out of her hair with the water bottle. There was only some bruises on her cheek that told of their capture. Castiel was perfectly happy to forget it.

"Did you peek?" Meg asked him with a twinkle in her eye, and his face only heated up more.

"No," he said and glared at Dean who was smirking at him with a raised eyebrow. "No, I did not!"

"Oh, Cas," Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "Never change."

Castiel glared indignantly at him, wondering what was wrong with a little chivalry, but Meg took his hand and pulled him back toward the car. "Don't mind them, Cas. We gonna get out of here or what?"

"Hell yes," Dean agreed and slid into the driver's seat. Cas and Meg got into the back and pretty soon the four of them were speeding down the highway, far away from the bad memories that remained at the factory.

A few hours later, they stopped in a small town in the middle of nowhere, where they hoped no one would look for them. The sun was setting as Dean pulled into a brightly lit, cheerful diner, and they trooped inside for some supper.

"I don't know about you, but I think we deserve some pie after that," Dean told them.

Sam shook his head but was smiling. "I'm for a banana split, myself."

The four of them sank into a booth and a motherly waitress took their orders, soon bringing heaping plates of food. Castiel had even ordered a hamburger, so low on energy he didn't think food would be a bad idea. The coffee he'd gotten had already helped his headache and warmed his body nicely. He picked up the hamburger and took a cautious bite. It tasted like cooked meat and cheese and a toasted bun, not like molecules. Normally, that might have alarmed him, since it meant he was very low on power, but for tonight, he was just going to enjoy it.

Meg smiled at him and stole a French fry off his plate to dip into her chili. He glanced over at her, saw her watching him, and smiled shyly. He was still processing everything, the capture—before the capture—her kiss that had broken his contact with Naomi…but mostly he was just glad she was back with him. That she was alive. That Sam and Dean were too. If Meg hadn't been there to snap him out of Naomi's control, he might have lost all of them and never remembered what he'd had before.

Meg seemed to see the emotions roiling inside of him, because she reached out and rested a hand just above his knee, squeezing comfortingly. Castiel felt some tension wash out of him, as she kept the contact, a constant reminder that she was there.

"So, what now?" Dean asked around a mouthful of bacon cheeseburger.

Sam shot him a look. "Dude, the last time you asked that, a whole ton of crap happened," he said.

Dean shrugged. "Well, nothing is ever gonna stop, you know that, right? That's kind of part of the gig. But still. I think we deserve a little R&R. Maybe we should go to the beach?"

Sam gave a bemused smile. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, man," Dean insisted. "Sun, sand…chicks in bikinis. When was the last time we went to the beach?"

"Um, never," Sam said.

"Exactly! It's time, dude."

"I'd like that," Meg said, surprising Castiel. She narrowed a glance at the Winchesters. "If I'm invited."

"Oh, well, sure," Dean said with a shrug. Sam and Castiel both shot him a surprised look. "I mean, you're kinda one of the gang now, right? Besides, I don't think Cas wants to set you adrift anytime soon."

Castiel looked down at his plate in embarrassment as Meg glanced at him questioningly, but he flicked his eyes up to hers with a shy smile. "I…would like to have you around if you want to stay, Meg," he said.

"I'd love to stay, Clarence," she said with a smirk and moved the hand she had on his leg upwards, surprising him. Castiel jumped, his face heating up as Sam and Dean chuckled. He cleared his throat and gulped the last of his coffee. Meg gave him a devilish look.

"It's settled then," Dean said, clapping his hands together eagerly. "The beach it is!"

"Only after we get a good night's rest," Sam insisted. "I'm beat."

Dean agreed with that. They spent the rest of the meal talking about where to go for their impromptu vacation and what they would do there. Castiel sank into the feeling of warmth and friendship the atmosphere provided, finding it easier to forget what Naomi had done to him than he had expected. He was just glad that everyone he cared about was here, and okay and planning a vacation of all things. It was almost surreal, but he was thankful that it wasn't just a good dream. It was real, and miraculously, they were all okay in what seemed like the first time in forever. Maybe that boded well for the future.

After they'd finished their meal, they went to the nearest motel and Dean and Sam bid Castiel and Meg goodnight.

"Just keep it down, you two," Dean told them, as he handed them their key. "Some of us sleep."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him. Honestly, that night, he was hoping to sleep himself, and he figured Meg probably would too. All four of them were exhausted.

"And don't worry, Dean," he said in parting. "I have my angel blade and will keep it closer to hand this time."

Dean's eyes widened and he made the face he did when he was trying not to laugh. Castiel still didn't understand what was funny, but Dean simply clapped a hand to his shoulder, winked at Meg, and left to go to his and Sam's room.

However, even though weariness pulled at him, as Castiel lay in the bed with Meg curled up next to him, he just couldn't sleep and it wasn't because he wasn't low on energy. He needed to rest, but he couldn't put his mind at ease. Every time he closed his eyes, the flashes of what he had done under Naomi's control assaulted him, the sound of the drill as she tore into his mind, rearranging it as she pleased. It made him feel exposed, violated, and he couldn't relax with the thoughts of how much worse it could have been.

Finally, he got up and slipped out of the room. The night was cool, and there were many stars in the sky. Castiel walked over to where the Impala was parked and settled himself on the hood, craning his neck back to look up at the millions of twinkling lights up there in the darkness. He let the cool breeze wash over him, calming and soft, and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind.

"Can't sleep?"

His eyes flew open and he glanced over to see Meg standing beside him, wearing his trench coat against the chill. He smiled at the sight of it enveloping her small figure, looking ridiculous, but at the same time, he liked seeing her in it.

"No, there's…much going on inside my head," he admitted.

"Well, at least there's something going on in there," she said sincerely.

Castiel gave her a rueful smile and nodded. "Yes. That is something to be thankful for."

Meg settled next to him, their thighs and shoulders pressed together. After a moment, he awkwardly settled an arm around her, pulling her closer. He was still rather unpracticed with these motions, but Meg seemed to like that, and settled against him, head resting on his shoulder.

"Castiel," she asked after a while. "Why do you not find me…repulsive…like the other angels do?"

Castiel glanced down at her, his brow furrowed, wondering what had brought that up. Then he thought about Naomi, and had a feeling she had spoken with Meg, probably said some very offensive things. "I guess it's because I see you for who you really are," he told her simply. "You are not like any other demon I have ever met. There is not all darkness in you."

Meg craned her neck to look up at him somewhat incredulously. "Really?"

He smiled softly. "There is some, yes, and there are thorns, but there are roses too." He brought a hand up to trace his fingers right under her collarbone on her left side, where her heart was. "Roses are never without their thorns, but that's what makes them stronger. Perhaps they're even more beautiful because of it."

Meg's smile was illuminated in the starlight, and he felt his stomach flip as if he had flown too quickly. "That's really how you see me?" she asked incredulously.

He smiled back. "Yes."

"You really think I'm beautiful even under this meatsuit?" She cocked an eyebrow, sounding skeptical.

Castiel stared at her for a long moment, reaching up to cup her face gently before he replied in earnest, "Yes. I do."

Her eyes gleamed and he leaned over to press a soft kiss to her lips before pulling back. Meg looked slightly disappointed, and he would like to continue kissing her more too, but he still had things to say.

"Meg," he began. "The angels will come for me again. It's only a matter of time."

"So?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I don't want them to hurt you."

She straightened, pulling away from him slightly so she could face him instead. "I think I can handle a few featherdusters," she told him. "Castiel, our lives are always going to be dangerous, just like Sam and Dean said earlier. We're never going to have a peaceful white picket fence life. The angels want your head, Crowley wants mine…the only thing we can do is live each day to the fullest. Keep going, and fight off whatever comes. I don't know about you, but I sure as hell am not gonna let that ruin what we have here, or what you have with the Winchesters." She smiled. "This is good, you know, the four of us. I think everyone else is just gonna have to learn to run."

Castiel smiled, a warmth spreading through his chest at her words. "As long as you know what you're getting into," he said.

She grinned. "I've known I was doomed since I met you."

"But not a bad doomed, I hope?"

"Only the best," she said, taking his face between her hands and leaning forward to kiss him.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, a pleased moan escaping his throat as she deepened the kiss and pressed him back against the hood of the Impala. It was a long moment before they broke apart, both panting slightly in the starlight, Meg hovering over him, her hair a dark curtain shadowing one side of his face.

She smirked cheekily as she traced her fingers over the hollow of his throat, playing with the buttons on his shirt. His stomach flipped again with her light, teasing touch. She leaned in closer, her breath tickling his neck as she put her lips close to his ear. "What do you say we order some pizza?" she whispered to him before kissing his jaw.

Castiel levered himself up into a sitting position again, pulling her with him as he smiled at her, somewhat shyly but with a dose of resolve. "I think we can skip the pizza."

Meg grinned and he hooked his arm around her waist as they retreated back toward their room. Meg's lips were already on his again as they got inside and he felt a warmth of contentment wash over him as he slipped his coat from her shoulders and kicked the door shut behind them.

The End

* * *

 **Thanks as always to everyone who read and/or reviewed this story! I've got a One Shot coming next Monday, a S12 case!fic with much Cas whump and a Cas, Crowley and Mary team up.**

 **After that On Friday July 14th I'm going to start posting the sequel to "Family First" so if you haven't read that one yet, now is the time to do so so you can be ready for the next story :)**


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